I found a simple thing
in a crumpled cardboard box.
A plastic bracelet yellow and blue
so ugly and old, but beautiful to me.
I used to play the fiddle with her,
but now I don’t know where she is,
nor what she does for work,
nor who she takes back home.
Maybe I would know
if I sought the house for more of her
and find more of those
memories trapped in objects,
memories trapped in objects.