Memories In The Attic

On a rainy day in summer
I quietly close the door
To sit among my memories,
Scattered on the attic floor.

Sometimes I just glance around,
Hesitant to explore,
All the things that lie there hidden
Behind my attic door.

Through memories in the attic, I walk again
The familiar paths of yesterday;
Old photographs recall precious moments,
Moments even years can't take away.

A mischievous, blue eyed, red head
Is smiling back at me
From a picture that was taken,
When he was almost three.

Her tiny face framed in a large picture hat,
She hugs her doll in a motherly way;
Shiny slippered feet peek out from the gown,
She wore so proudly in the kindergarten play.

Scrawled notes written by little hands,
Promises made for a spiritual bouquet,
Messages of love, so dear to me now,
How could I ever throw them away!

A home run batted, his first and last,
No hit pitchers, heroes of their day,
Attic memories, wrapped up in little league shots,
I joyfully find in the disarray!

A marriage license, discolored with age,
Army discharge papers, a first, last will,
Old greeting cards and faded love letters
Are bits of the past, I treasure still.

Her wedding gown hanging from the rafters,
College books boxed to be taken some day,
Yesterdays' clothes and discarded toys;
A part of each child never moves away!

Rain clouds are clearing, 'tis time to rise up
Leaving old memories scattered on the floor,
To walk in God's world of new challenges,
Waiting for me beyond my attic door!

                          Margaret McCabe