Did I wander this lonely corridor,
Stopping to touch the little statuettes,
That litter the hall stands,with my fingertips?
The dark mahogany panneling stirs memories in me.
Have I seen this little box before?
Empty now it is, what is supposed to rest in it?
Little silver box.
What were you for?
What can't I remember?
Scarlett carpeted floors muffle creaks,
The warm darkness is like a friend,
The mystery eluding me still,
I wander through these lost rooms in my mind,
this place of familiar objects,
Black and white photographs.
Tiny moments, preserved like ants in amber,
Unreachable, undecipherable,
Puzzle pieces without a puzzle.
I shall haunt this place.
No comments:
Post a Comment