In Storage (Poetry)

The past is packed in plastic tubs
kept free of damp and dust
those relics wrapped and put away
denied to rot and rust

And memory-tight — for I forget
the wealth of things long-stored
from youth’s bright busy hopeful days
too crowded to record

The boxes stacked — piled ceiling-high
and waiting for a time
when change unlids — revealing those
old treasures I call mine

Although for now the past must stay
contained and lost to sight
hope gives some comfort — guides me through
these empty rooms of night