The Dream Box rested high upon a dusty shelf

For decades in the library it sat beside itself

Undisturbed, untouched, invisible, and stealth

Guarding a man's secrets and all his inner wealth

The Dream Box did it's duty. No one had looked inside.
Then one day, while dusting, the box was pushed aside.
The feather duster dropped, "Oh no!" the cleaner cried!

Like dry leaves in slow motion, spilling contents, there it lied

One nearby observer, emboldened, then bent down
Catching crumbling dreams as the pieces blew around.
Just like all was written with disappearing ink
Exposed to light dreams vanish like the water down the sink.

Words and notes and letters … splinters crossed the floor
Drifted down the hallway to be seen forenever more
Jumbled and disjointed, echoes puffed outside the door
As most dreams are forgotten, lost entangled in their lore

Lee Rector ~ 11/25/2014