I can still see

Still smell that smell

The smell of leather

And the way it would creak and crack

Despite the polish

Giving way once too often

The straps wearing thin

Like belts that had seen too much service

Round the corpulent wreck

Of standing room only, trousers

The corners that were broken or split

One of the latches would never easily fasten

And signs of rust had attacked the lock

 

But inside the case was still immaculate

Despite smelling of moth balls and liniment

And a dress a little frayed round the edges

Carefully wrapped in tissue

Saved for that special day

Along with a fox fur wrap

And a linen hat

With a black netted front

These were the most treasured

No pictures on display

All hidden away

Maybe in another suitcase

But that was for another day

When we were ready to find more of what

Had been lost