attic full of dreams

as she ages,

she keeps

her dreams in the attic,

ticket stubs

and cards,

photos, promises

never kept,

all of it tucked

away

in the shadows,

under the dust

and mold

that gathers on

the boxes, the bins,

dried flowers.

it's lonely up there,

as it was 

when they were down

the long flight of stairs,

love kept hidden,

now all of it fading

cruelly 

with each lonely year.