Maya Angelou

When You Come to Me

        When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
        To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

        Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
        Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
        Trunks of secret words,

                        I CRY.