the last of my daughter's belongings.
Stored in the attic underneath the light
lay the world of make believe and imaginary things.
This box it held her stuffed animals
they were every size, shape, every color of the rainbow.
Here were the containers filled with books
and the puzzles she loved so.
Stored further back against the wall
were her dolls those babies had given pleasure.
There underneath the old stereo
she'd found a place to bury her treasure.
I wandered endlessly from one box
then on to another.
I felt the pain of motherhood
the feeling which does smother.
Here were all those happy moments
we had spent together.
Those days we spent in sunlight
and in the stormy weather.
Now my precious daughter
had children of her own
and I smile to myself
at how quickly time has flown.
The day grew long and still
I let my reminiscing carry me
back to her childhood days
falling deep into the land of fantasy.
There were still numerous things to pack
calls to make, a million things left undone
yet I sat there playing with her toys
in the dusty attic in a tiny patch of sun.