Grandmother’s chest in the attic,
Waiting for someone to come near her
Ears strained to hear the known footsteps
Vision blurred with cobwebs, but her spirit is not
May be there is something for you in there may be not,
But how will you know if you don’t reach out to it?
A quilt and some handkerchiefs
A world of soft cotton and lace…
I have gone through this poem by Somkritya many times and it gives the same lovely feeling every time. All the memories come alive. 'May be there is something for you in there may be not,
But how will you know if you don’t reach out to it?

