one day i too
may be confined in
this oakwood chest of
ancestral treasures
where the sepia
rests with dust motes
and old letters reveal
at times what we prefer
to conceal
i ponder on
items you may choose
to keep of mine
worth the saving
perhaps the court orders
stamped and sealed
promises made of a path ahead
a settled future
for three entrusted
to our care
or maybe a collection
of my better poems will
find their way in notebooks
thumbed and dog eared
for perusal
though I sincerely hope
you do not feel that grief
that family ghosts bestow
on me when i open
the lid on yesterdays
to ride the waves
of loss rolling in to shore
on the back of memories