Little Treasures

Sometimes in a little shoe box

The ones she wore as a toddler

Friends of the golden spool and proud thimble

They never belong.

Twisted up behind an old sock under the bed

Or filed in the wrong folder

Forgotten but not gone.

Memories lay in wait

Posed like the school photo

Smiling at the colony of bunnies

Some big some small

All out of reach

Of the broomstick.

Little treasures not to be found

Overlooked a hundred times

Not that button.

What’s it from?

Their dulled reflections catch the eye

When the eye is ready to see them.