A Treasure in the Attic

Treasures abound in an attic
if you're patient enough
to wade through
the spiderwebs and dust
to discover them.

I found a picture of Mama there
in an old camelback steamer trunk
crowded with forgotten relatives
in musty photo albums,
dried rose bouquets,
and size six shoe boxes
filled with old love letters
tied by faded ribbons.

How I wish I had known her then --
she was young and pretty,
living carefree in a world
filled with Daddy,
before children and cancer.

The photo was crackled,
its corners dog-earred,
but there she was.
A bandana tied round her head
almost held the whispy curls
celebrating their freedom
in an ocean breeze,
pants rolled up mid-calf,
cuffs barely skimming the water,
and she looked so happy.

And from a trunk in the attic
I found a treasure,
a love that had so shaped me
throughout my entire life.
How terribly I miss her.