Stored in my grandmother's back room
Storage held shelves and shelves of cotton covered trinkets
and odds
and ends
Sundries that held old funny stories
and cans and old flyers that held little more history
than the **** I took this morning

But upended, on side
collided with time
was a heap of old wicker bough baskets
stacked in heaps and heaps
but guarded and carefully covered
Covered in cotton lace.
Tatted in tantalizing
waves of rings of knots, holes, and wide open spaces
The treasures I found measured in yards of cotton lace.