Past Life in My Attic 



There's a past life in my attic
Stashed in boxes on the floor
Days gone by but not forgotten
Of the life I knew before.
Keepsakes kept in cardboard coffins
Knick-knacks not so long ago
Keys to treasure chests of memories
Of a life I used to know.

Photographs in faded albums,
Matchbook covers by the score,
Styles of clothing so outrageous
That I can't believe I wore.

Every artifact I've hoarded
Triggers magic at my touch
Of those times long since forgotten
Which I once had loved so much.

There are letters from old sweethearts,
Cards from lovers I had known
Who, by now, have long since married
And have children of their own. 

Baseball gloves and scented candles,
Rings of keys to unknown locks,
Treasures from my adolescence
Now resigned to cardboard box.

I am asked, upon occasion,
To clean out and start anew,
Take my past life to the trash heap...
Something I will never do.

There are times when life gets heavy,
Back starts aching from the load
And a soul needs sanctuary
So that it will not explode.

At those times, I climb the ladder,
Face takes on a peaceful glow
As I go once more to visit
That past life I used to know.