Unearthing
The little black clutch waited
to present itself, slyly hidden
in Nan’s nylon shopper,
fondly fingered a thousand times,
before faded faux leather muscled to the fore.
I picked it up like a new thing; smelt old.
Took a breath and delved inside to find them
waiting. Memories I never had.
Preserved in letters: yellowed, undated; squabbles over
bad behaviour, knitwear, wife-abuse.
Patterns, coupons, tickets, snippets, official words
and half an inch of pencil (still writes)
drawing together the past.
A family of paper dolls. Uninvited
fantasy dinner guests who, now revived
come night after night to remind me,
I’m not alone, that I belong
with these pieces of paper.
Sarah Dunne lives in Sussex and recently completed a part-time degree in English Literature (Creative Writing pathway). She previously said on IS&T that creative writing makes her happy, it still does.