OLD WHITE CHEST
In the bottom drawer
of the old white chest,
she keeps memories
she loves best.
Some preserved
from days of youth—
pictures, emblems,
flags of truth.
Cards and notes
discolored—saved,
a broken romance,
trials once braved.
It holds sad memories,
a child now lost—
through personal items,
she counts the cost.
Her life, not measured
in this small space,
or genealogies
one might trace,
Or in those things,
there tucked away
where she finds solace
on a quiet day.
But thru’ the years
she has been blessed,
viewing her treasures
in the old white chest.
Tamara Hillman
©2006
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