Old Things

I love old things -
milestones of moments
frozen
inside moments,
used, bruised,
knocked around -
stories of survival
and resolve,
that sit now
by themselves,
on freshly painted walls,
and slow rocking chairs,
pickled in air-tight chests,
or seasoned like old wine
in dark forgotten closets;
suspended in moments
of holding their breath,
for that quiet celebration
by little hands -
where the lines
of the heart
and life,
are still being drawn.