memories

A simple thing

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.

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