The Smallest Things
Kelly Boesch
I found a sweater with tattered thread
Pulled a wooden inbox from under the bed
Wiped the dust from a familiar frame
Looking at a face without a name
A worn old coat that's seen its years
How did all the memories end up here
Maybe we're made from the smallest things
A loose white button, a swallow's wing
A match struck once in the fading blue
Smoke finds the places we never knew
Time won't ask to be explained
Some things go and some remain
I stack the papers in a heavy pile
Tracing the edges of a faded smile
Summer light fading from the room
I sweep the floor with a well worn broom
I pack the boxes till the room is bare
And leave the memories of an old life there
Maybe we're made from the smallest things
A loose white button, a swallow's wing
A match struck once in the fading blue
Smoke finds the places we never knew
Time won't ask to be explained
Some things go and some remain