Hanging from hooks on display,
Are chains with special charms on the ends.
Some are preserved nature,
Like the tiny mushroom surrounded by grass,
Or the dead butterfly with no legs,
And the resin heart of a purple flower.

Some are crystals,
Like the tiger’s eye pendant,
The beads of blue goldstone,
Or the pendulum of smoky quartz,
And the agate that looks like a purse.

Some are special and connected to memories,
Like the golden locket from a date,
Or the silver snowflake from an aunt,
The green Buddha,
And the gold Buddha both from my grandmother.