Page 53 - Pat's Tavern
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Pat’s Tavern by Thomas J. CraneTreasures From The Past How Fickle Life Can Sometimes BeKept in a box and tucked away,are treasures from the past that have seen a better day.They have no value, that much is true. it only matters what they meant to who.A beautiful flower pressed in a book,would crumble to dust if someone took a look.A beautiful lock of wondrous hair from some maiden fair, head turned all gray even if she is still there.A scarf or hankie with a wondrous scent, faded away and without even a hint, reduced to nothing but lint.A broken locket with a photo inside too, the image so faded, can’t remember who.A ticket to some big time show or fancy place, now all gone and turned into a parking space.Trinkets galore from some carnival passing through town, the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round,just piles of rust in the ground.A golden ring with a shiny sheen, now all covered in bluish green.Photos of places of long ago,now covered in dust that the winds now blowWorthless tokens exchanged for hard earned cash,53


































































































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