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Michael George Up In Grandma’s AtticThe smell is mysterious, unique The musty flavor is deceitful An old smell, but crisp, as if the air is ancient. Inhale and get a taste of the living memories. So much history is amidst this air The quality of the past makes the scent so strong Wandering the attic, finding a thick wood trunk Metal locks and engravings, rusty, colors fading Carved out of the wood, some letters still visible: Poland/America, 1849 Reaching with tips of fingers to feel the letters… The ship is dark and damp One hand clings to her mother, the other to her belongings A trunk, carrying everything she’s bringing to the new world A solitary chest, tough and capable Loaded tight, heavier than she is As the ship rocks back and forth across the cold Atlantic… Heavy and strong to keep the smell inside Open the lock and lift the lid Grand furs and fancy felt hats Black dresses and shawls Jewelry that still shines Paintings, books, and warm blankets Locked inside, so old they seem nearly dead But with heritage so strong they live forever Passed on to a future generation The scent will linger, endure |
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]
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