Memories can be boxed away,

stashed for rainy days.

Hidden treasures show me your face,

identical to my brother’s,

but it’s me that holds your secret.

A light that shines through, given to me by you.

You left too soon, I guess He was in a hurry,

to show me how it works, to teach me in your ways.

Movies and photographs tell me your story,

but even the sweetest of reminiscence

can’t bring you back.

There is no magic, no bottled elixir to conjure your spirit.

You were gone that fateful day, left nothing but a shell

and a little girl lost. I honestly thought this was Hell.

But the memories, yes the memories.

My box filled with a hibiscus buried in the dirt,

the scent of oil and the sound of metal on metal

clanging from inside the tool box.

But I have a secret, our secret,

carried with me in a place for the world to see

and the light shines through, given to me by you.

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