Grandma's Attic

Needle poised over a scratched vinyl record,
grooves flooded with attic dust
and silenced.
The rumpled tutu of a not-so-prima ballerina
would once pirouette with dainty satin slippers.
An unsettled dusk sunlight
filtered and trickled through sepia photographs,
warped and peeling memories
of grandma's sunday chocolate chip cookies.
The brushes are missing
from cracked-desert dry water paint kits.
Like empty rusted mouse traps, unset,
there are no children smiling.

 

Wow, very impressive! I love the attention to detail, very specific and tangible. Great sentiment too.

 

That was a lovely piece.

I thought it was really special, and empathizing.

Thanks for the read .