Corners In The Attic Poem by nathan martin
Corners In The Attic
a wishbucket painting of a midwest
sky in the evening.
an old rusty singlespeed scwinn bicycle.
folded mothball memories stacked
in cardboard.
and you can pass down three generations
in an A-framed wonderment.
lost to all but not to dust, where spiders play
keeper of all still keepsakes.
thier hollow formed webs catch
dreams in the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 11:24:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
