Shining dully from the coffers of the soul
Leaning hard against the heart.
Memories from the moulds of yesterday.
A silent, siren call
Glimpses of sacred pieces
Of the who and how of then, seeking solace.
Tears wash away the covering shroud
Expose the secrets in their sweet repose
Lying, waiting with infinitesimal patience
for the prodigal return.
Paper from Alluvium, to Wash Against, by Virginia Mitford
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