Junk Drawer

I rattle the box.

An Altoids tin.
A jangle collection of screw heads
I didn’t know was there.

Birthday candles.

So many shapes and colors
to light celebrations
I no longer have.
And when I do,
I forget,
and buy more.

Much like the years that pass each May.
Collections I forget were there.

But I can’t buy more years
when I can’t find the memories,

lost possibilities.

I can’t keep them in an Altoids tin.

And even if I did,
would I remember?

.

.

.

Author’s Note.

Day 10 of Na/GloPoWriMo and an interesting exercise.