This poem about having golden age syndrome, inspired by going up into my attic and seeing all my old childhood artifacts.
Share this:
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
- More
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
- Click to share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
- Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
- Click to print (Opens in new window) Print
- Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
- Click to share on Nextdoor (Opens in new window) Nextdoor
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X