You sit in the corner of the musty basement
Your brass knobs have lost their shine
Your chocolate brown varnish has faded
Grandpa’s tools are packed in cardboard boxes by the stairs
Photographs are strewn all over the stained shag carpet
But no one has come near you
As I make my way closer
Your details become more apparent
Blue acrylic paint is embedded deep within your grain
Her signature etched into your right corner
Between the cup of broken oil pastels and the lined notebook paper
A flash of color catches my eye
A bright pink box adorned with red and yellow tulips
I run my fingers along the cool metal edge
And open it
Birthday cards
Years of them
All written by me
Saved by her

Post written by Caroline Keir

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