The past is a wax cabinet
where I can move around,
see everything and everyone that has been, from every angle

The transition from now to then,
from the pulsating lifeblood of the present
to the cabinet's contemplation, is slow like syrup,
honey, or fresh pine resin,
but solidifies as we watch,
as I stand contemplating the meaning of life
and time's relentless loyalty

The forthcoming is a ghost play by Camilla Gripe