A weathered key turned in a worn out lock;
Rusty hinges creak as the lid is gingerly raised,
Aged dust drawn as if by vacuum fills the musty air,
Like so many travellers on their worldly journey.
This steamer trunk long forgotten;
Adorned with France, Belgium, Canada, Japan…
Reminders of its travels and the sights it has seen.
Memories of good times,
Memories of some not so good,
Memories of long nights,
Smoke filled taverns,
Exhilaration in the unknown,
This musty old trunk, like my mind
Covets memories of days-gone-by.
Perhaps they too are weathered and worn,
Adorned with tattered tags of my life’s travels,
And relegated to a dingy attic,
But they are mine and mine alone
To cherish all the days of my life.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~