I caught a glimpse of muslin tucked away

I caught a glimpse of muslin tucked away,

in shadows of memory, where colors decay.

Faded fabric of years, soft as a sigh,

a ghost in the closet, where echoes comply.

Frayed edges sway gently, whispers of love,

a hand-me-down comfort, like clouds up above.

Sorting through garments, I breathe in the past,

a rush of emotions, each stitch holds me fast.