They called it her collection,
mementoes from all over the place.
I didn’t know where all over the place was
but the painted figures were so colourful
I thought it must be very different
to the grey drizzle of this place.
They told me they weren’t toys,
I was not even to touch them,
I could only look
as they stood
on their shelves.
when they pleaded with me
through their silence,
I gave them a little stroke,
I know it pleased them.
I took them down,
freed them from their cupboard,
from the straight lines of shelving
and allowed them to touch each other
to behave as they once did in their place.
That was the only time I heard them speak
and the colours poured from their voices
all over the place.
And now, it’s another time
and I’m in a different place
watching them still standing speechless.
Even their colours are muted with dust now
but I can hear their voices through the silence.
They’re pleading with me to free them again.
So I shall bid for Lot 53,