Woven Memories

Found a basket in the attic, weathered and worn,

filled with treasures, like a child’s heart reborn.

Soft fibers weave tales of laughter and tears,

shadows of moments, now echoes of years.

I sift through the remnants, each trinket a spark,

a story untold in the fading dark.

Sunlight creeps in through the cracks in the wood,

but I cradle these memories, each one understood.