At the Edge of Memory

Sat in the rain

Under the awning

The attic light is on

It’s always shining

An odd little beacon 

A golden square high above

I imagine living up there

Must be dusty right now

A touch claustrophobic

Still haven’t found a way

To get up there and look

But it could be nice

I imagine it would be nice

And it holds some

Comfort to see

Just a single window

A bright light behind it

An empty room inside

But like a dream it remains

At the edge of memory

A reminder of warmth and

Safety

Out in the cold