stuffed into the back of a drawer,
or an Unused box saved
and thrown atop a shelf,
I have stacked some memories
and let myself forget them.
One day when I open that drawer,
my hand shall find that page;
that box may fall in my sight,
my touch will lift the dust of age
and I shall see the cracks and yellow
line those many names...
like lost and faded faces,
that smile through broken Frames.