Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

(un)wanted treasure boxes

the small world you
crave to take flight from
collects dust –
but as old age comes,
knocking at your door –
it becomes a tiny treasure box,
gold in the rust –
everything you wanted but
believed you never
wanted before
nostalgia leaves you, grinning –
yet you dig in your memories for more

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: local

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