Tender is the light
as it swirls lazy dust motes
through the once attic window
shining on what is left:
rusty knob and tube wire,
unnamed ancestors
in a musty shoebox,
candle figurines
melted by summers
teddy bears succumbing
to mold from rain and snow
through the fallen-in roof.
All left for salvage
by squirrels who take what
is useful for nests
nature unjudging
humans not returning
memories unclaimed.
Stacey Murphy __ Poems 