Storage place for junk I didn't need

you didn't want to look at.

I didn’t either.

Until now.

Your handyman tools smeared with rust

next to our childhood crafts;

macaroni stuck on construction paper,

stale now, and dusted.

Boxes filled with

graduation pictures class of 1965,

hidden behind these family reunions,

birthdays of our five grandchildren,

our black and white wedding photos,

That Navy uniform always looked the best on you.

I got the best of you, and the war took the rest.