In the attic, rafters slacking,
 Slightly slumped from careless stacking,
Dated by newspaper packing
 Standing in a row...

Cardboard boxes filled with treasures
 Gleaned from passing childhood pleasures
Labeled with the age it measures
 From her life below...

   ...Outside, it starts to snow.

Down the stairs, her parents sitting―
 He with nothing, she with knitting,
In their silence, both submitting
 To their empty nest...

Spread before them, worn and tattered,
 Travel folders loosely scattered,
Saved from times when leisure mattered
 And their patience stressed...

   ...Oh, how those days were blessed!

In the hall, a phone is ringing
 Without hint of what it's bringing;
Voices drone, then joyous singing
 Overwhelms their hearts...

In the spring, a new life coming!
 Phone replaced by fingers numbing,
Tarnished heartstrings begin thrumming,
 Emptiness departs...

   ...Inside, redemption starts…

Bursting with anticipation
 O'er the sudden proclamation,
Suddenly, an inclination
 Sparkles in their eyes...

To the attic, almost sprinting,
 Past discarded, future glinting,
Travel folders need reprinting
 To prioritize...

   ...A Disneyland surprise?

Boxes tossed, the quest proceeding,
 Dust unsettled, years receding,
Seeking help they will be needing
 From their lives before...

Flaps dismembered, shredded wrappings,
 Fond recountings, flawed recappings,
Strewn throughout the youthful trappings
 On the attic floor...

   ...Lost memories no more.

Plush companions stuffed with cotton,
 Bedtime stories long forgotten,
Blessings given, others gotten,
 Wrapped in angel's wings...

Down the stairs, the couple dances,
 Sharing grins and knowing glances;
Thus, the wheel of life advances
 From each joy it brings...

   ...Outside, a robin sings.