Memories Buried in Dust

I pried open the door to a world I forgot,

dust motes afloat in the warmth of the spot.

Each item I touched seemed to sigh and to ache,

receipts crumbled softly, old records half-bake.

The radio crackled, a tune from the past,

dusted off memories, each moment held fast.

Oil rags and trinkets, the remnants of life,

a bittersweet treasure beneath all the strife.