Uncovered

Discovering a lost past in a drawer

Open the drawer a little bit,

Just a crack

To let the light in,

And the scent of lost history out.

Hear the whisper of dust,

Things stirring and sneezing in grey fur;

In a shaft of sunlight

The dust dances to freedom

While ‘the things’ blink dizzily in the sudden bright,

Try in vain to climb out.

Reach in, feel the change

From present to past,

Hot to cold;

Feel the ice of something metal,

Splinters of wood, reams of paper,

And the excited touch of eight legs:

Spindly spiders breeding nightmares in the corner.

Take out a book

With yellowed pages and crumpled spine,

Packed with leather bookmarks;

Hear the whisper of people turned to dust,

Skeleton hands reaching out from the drawer,

Teeth gleaming in the disturbed darkness.

 

You put the book back in its place

And close the drawer...

But you’ll open it again,

Soon enough.