Childhood's Toy

A worn out storage box,
only one toy stands out.
Its tangled, brown fur as soft as babies’ skin
and as delicate as a butterfly’s wing.
Fluff pouring out and a patch of stitches,
a leg and arm already on its hinges.
Smelling old and musty;
given when I first saw light.
Even greater than wealth,
because it is all of my childhood memories…