The maroon trunk lies atop his brown tableHalf opened with the key still dangling in the lock
Inside besides the mirror, in between the sweaters
He wishes not to stir it again
That has been since kept untouched
His first letter written to her on faded rose petals
And the mirror in the room reflecting her
putting on a rose around her hair bun
Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don't claim any of its rights.