— Floi Baker
In a dusty attic in an old cedar chest,
An ivory comb that kept
her hair in place.
A lock of golden hair
tied with a bit of lace.
A tarnished silver heart
Holds the faint image of her face.
Satin slippers that danced into dusk…
A crumbling red rose
He gave her, with a promise and a kiss.
Voices fading into twilight years
The echo of laughter
Frozen in a memory.
Timeless images and silent tears.