Boyhood Inventory

 

Photo of Old Cigar Boxes from Pinterest

 

cigar box secrets
possessions with
powers of privacy
curious objects of
preadolescence
talisman childhood
artifacts taken as
innocent prisoners
of quiet discovery
culled from adventures
and escapades
brimming with fantasy

compass and whistle
flint arrowheads
penknife and snake
rattle fossils and
seashells a dragon
tooth world war two
carbine shell feathers
and rocks with some
eye-catching features
a dinosaur knuckle
a rabbit’s foot coins
from a buccaneer’s lair

all tucked in their
art-paneled vaults
among sneakers
and baseball gear
guarded by underbed
mists of incipient
unformed tomorrows
every possible future
just waits to emerge
from shadow to shape
that will someday
put all of these prized
secret treasures aside

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents

Vitrine

Antique English Vitrine c.1880

 

mementoes in a tiny museum

souvenirs of small moments

shiny stones fluted seashells

retained bits and baubles

quiet with personal histories

habits collected in childhood

displayed in their sentiments

carried by years into manhood

emotional artifacts telling brief

tales of diminutive journeys

now at prominent rest beneath

glass in the parlor available

handy to curious eyes seeking

insight from biograph markers

these temporal timeworn and

much caressed objects whose

conscious display reveals clues

to the heart of a taciturn man

 

 

From my book Ephemera

Kindling

for so many decades
my books were my trophies
taken on thousands of hunts
into jungles of literature
mounted on sturdy wood library shelves
crowding niches and nooks of my rooms

every one a true treasure
from plainest of paperbacks
all the way up through fine folios
hand-sewn with tooled leather bindings
fleamarket finds and author inscriptions
rare first editions and mass market reprints

but once I found Kindle
the most of my prizes were boxed up
donated to libraries public and private
to homes of my children and family
my history cast along tangents
and intersects marking my past

from hereon my old age adventures
unfold in the palm of one hand
safaris will overland digitally
through wilderness lit from within
and big game I chased across vellum
respond now to beckoning touch

(PS – adding this in light of early comments. I resisted a long time because I, too, love real books. I was a true bibliophile for most of my life, having acquired volumes from far flung places like the left bank booksellers of Paris and dealers on the Ginza in Tokyo. Their look, their feel, their smell always thrilled me. But I got to a point where I felt they needed new homes where others could find their joys. It’s also become difficult for me to hold a book very long, and having them around was more sad than letting them go.)

Vitrine

Antique French Vitrine
Photo from rubylane.com

mementoes in a tiny museum
souvenirs of small moments
shiny stones fluted seashells
retained bits and baubles
quiet with personal histories
habits collected in childhood
displayed in their sentiments
carried by years into manhood
emotional artifacts telling brief
tales of diminutive journeys
now at prominent rest beneath
glass in the parlor available
handy to curious eyes seeking
insight from biograph markers
these temporal timeworn and
much caressed objects whose
conscious display reveals clues
to the heart of a taciturn man