Attics full of going brown secrets, love letters with a "Return to Sender" across its envelopes, the sun fingers never touch any of those casual hidden mementos...

In a drawer of an old chest and covered
by the accumulated powder dust of time
were a few brown letters, faded photos,
a key chain attached to a penknife,
paper clips, pencil stubs and some stamps.

A “Father’s day” present, a tie,
in it’s originally colorful wrappings,
never send, forgotten in its hiding;
an old passport full of estranges seals
from many countries, too far away.

The fading picture of someone younger
showing a pass photo like mug shot
of somebody’s most wanted face,
a flash, and a paper strip with
a two by two promise of travel.

A yellow string holding a brown bundle
pushing back into a corner a very old pen
that answered long ago all this letters,
even signing, many times, with a real name.

A grandfather’s gold pocket watch
without glass and lacking hands,
a sock!, what is it doing there?
why is always one gone missing
from a par traveling together?;

A pale blue deflated pacifier
still holding its ribbon,
the perfume of the crib is gone away,
a silver rattle that could chase silences
when it was shake by the small hands.

A few keys to open old forgotten doors,
nearly effaced names
in discolored valentine cards,
bended thumbtacks, few toothpicks,
a bicycle bell, beer caps and stubs from cinema.

Small pieces of an ever-insoluble puzzle
all of them covered by the dust of time,
and like a rusted hook
holds memories of fishing,
this drawer holds the fragments of one’s life.