A Box In The Attic

By Chahat Gupta

A trinket, a lip balm A diary, a silk scarf A delicate flower vase, A silly looking eye mask A cuddle toy, a fountain pen A bookmark, a silver chain A poster, a photo frame A windchime, a board game A black dress, a woollen sweater A perfume, a long letter Souvenirs of love Ready to be forsaken With pieces of you Endearing but sadly broken I put them all In a box in the attic Label it “fragile” And swear to never open it It takes me time But I pack it firm And just like that We are said and done

By Chahat Gupta