For now, you are new
almost pristine.
I put you with the others
your older sisters
worn, used, lived-in,
but still prickling with quiet promise:
their honest colours have not faded.
After years of giving
they have so much.
One day I’ll get a CD player
I suppose
And replace you all
But I’ll keep you safe.
When I dust you
I’ll feel the old wild pull.
Like old photographs
you are my youth.
(First published in The West Australian)