Into The Gloom
on the attic stairs creak when lowered.
Above me, cobwebs string a passage,
lined with daddy long legs scurrying to stay
inside the shadows.
A shaft of light from a small window
pierces the gloom, exposing the intricate web.
On top of the sole floorboard
in the far corner
pink insulation sits a pile
of heavy cardboard boxes
carefully penned with a black sharpie.
A remnant of my youth abandoned.
I crouch and sit cross-legged next to the heap.
Flashlight in hand.
Close my eyes for a moment,
wrap my arms tight to ward off the chills.
A musty kiss brushes my cheek.
Raising hairs, as I open the first flimsy box, flip the contents.
The stack slides out settling into a heap between the beams.
Clark Kent and Supergirl stare from glossy pages.
Superheroes overcome by red kryptonite, buried
along with their evil counterparts.
At first glance with no trace of recognition
he then approaches with open arms
to grasp my shoulders and close me in.
Lex Luthor, tricked into this Bizarro world.
Left to brood over his misfortune.
Fiendishly plotting Superman’s downfall
as the ultimate ruler
of Planet Earth
and with my help,
his fated escape from obscurity.