Now This, A Treasure Most Obscure..
By Chris Stanifer
August 07, 2008
How soft have I become,
how fragile,
that a simple metal box
humbly adorned,
packed with my Mother's
old sewing notions,
awkward treasures kept,
should rend such torrents
from my eyes?
Here are spools of vibrant threads,
some new and never used,
white, pink, red,
others more ancient than I,
wound upon wooden spindles,
darkened with age,
the patina of loving years.
And here, a tin of push-pins,
the round, colored ends
once held gingerly
between the teeth
as careless rips
and tears were mended,
or roller skating outfits fashioned,
appliquéd with steady hand,
that we might look our best.
Bobby pins, 60 count,
to hold back sister's golden hair,
or grandmother's graying locks,
ball-tipped and double coated
for comfort, and why not?
She always thought of these things,
whereas I would have
simply used tape.
There lie small bags of buttons,
some kept for occasion of need,
some likely for pure aesthetic,
or the hope that they would find use
on future Wedding gowns or
a grandchild's Summer outfit,
glimmering in the soft picnic-sun.
And, Lo! That pair of Pinking Shears!
alligator-toothed monstrosities!
incapable of cutting out a proper
paper airplane, but in her hands,
put to some secret use, unfathomable in my youth,
they must have held some magic
to be included here.
Now this, a treasure most obscure,
a tiny stamped-brass ornament,
(hearth, stocking, and cherubic child,)
a year and three tiny letters etched..
my eldest sister's name, 1990. Too old, by then,
perhaps she thought, for such a simple gift,
and so kept it here, un-given, a relic of her love?
Pins, keys, buttons, bows,
watch batteries (how odd!!),
all these tiny mementos, safeguarded
over the years in this little metal box,
remind me of the mother I loved so well,
and who, now gone against her will, and mine,
shall mend the fabric of my life no more.
About the author:
Chris Stanifer is a professional Chef, living and working in Las Vegas, Nevada. He owns nothing of value, save his Son's love, his Pride, and his Chastity (the latter two, it turns out, were sold years ago for cigarettes and cheap beer.)
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