a wishbucket painting of a midwest <br /> sky in the evening. <br /> <br />an old rusty singlespeed scwinn bicycle. <br /> <br /> folded mothball memories stacked <br /> in cardboard. <br /> <br /> and you can pass down three generations <br /> in an A-framed wonderment. <br /> <br /> lost to all but not to dust, where spiders play <br /> keeper of all still keepsakes. <br /> <br /> thier hollow formed webs catch <br /> dreams in the night.<br /><br />nathan martin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/corners-in-the-attic/
