David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
Sitting on the bed they once shared
The old man opened an old shoe box
He kept on the wardrobe floor.
Inside were the memories of a
Past life, a past love. He opened
The box and tenderly ran his hand
Over the photographs selecting one.
A face stared back at him, a young face.
Smiling at the camera with kind eyes.
He picked up the wedding ring and
Looking at it and kissed it gently.
The bracelet he bought her on her
Last birthday twinkled in the morning
Light, and her watch, the strap now frayed.
He put them all on the bed next to him.
More photos’ brought back memories
Of days gone by, happier days, fond days.
He looked and the last photo of their
Wedding day and blinked a tear.
The box was empty but for one thing.
A glow at the bottom of the box that
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