Spring Clean Poem by Dónall Dempsey

In an attic
an old cardboard box

theatrically tied with
coloured ribbon

a bit battered now

I shake it to see
what’s inside it.

It is silent until I open it
and out spills

a sweet kiss

the softest of caresses

a withered tear

your typical broken heart

and other memories becoming ghost.

A dust mote dances in the sunlight.

How foolish to keep it
after all these years

Unable to throw it away then...and now.

I climb down stairs
a little shaky

make a big cup of tea

and have a little cry.

My husband holds me
in his arms

kisses me gently...says:

'He must have been some guy! '