the wooden stairs yelp a bit to the weight of my aged legs ,they seem to ascend with a little less bounce these days
The stagnant air with a sprinkle of must greets my nose
Halfway through the journey
Like a distant memory
My mind seems to **** through the the amassing of moments of a lifetime .
Corralled amidst the dark and dusty chamber of an existence.
Recollections
Revered , yet bathed in cobwebs
Some more than others
One can tell the moments
re-visited more often than others...
The recollective tide has washed away the dust , and the cobwebs have eroded into the corner.
My life
Most of it , sprawled amidst this 12 X 12 area that has become a place to get lost within
Unfitting clothes , I can't seem to part with
A time when I was in better shape
A covered Christmas tree with its own collection if stories
Books upon books
That I've immersed myself into, the mould the conscious grey matter peeking this now
Piles of journals
Odes to a love of a lifetime
Chess boards
That taught me how to " see through " the picture
Good and bad , happy and sad
A corner of heartbreak, a table of hope.
A pile of shoes, with Miles on their souls
Destinations, journeys, a walk of life buried ,
Memories, emotions
A soul
Where is your attic ?
And how often do you visit ?
The attic