• There is a place within I run to,
    • Search out that which has the ability,
    • Not unlike to a tool to  find
    • And bring forth memories.
  • Then to caress them,
    • Experience the emotions again,
    • Hold them up for adoration.
    • Even my scorn or guilt.
  • The emotions come forth,
    • Hot and fresh.
    • Evoking physical reactions,
    • Akin to the original adventure.
  • Remembrances of days gone by,
    • And since may more days have passed,
    • There are more remembrances
    • And less time left to cherish them.
  • Remembrances,
    • The treasures, one accumulates.
    • Both good, bad, and in between.
    • Hopefully, more good memories
    • To carry beyond the veil.

Originally written:   October 26, 1996

  • I was thinking about an old wizened man with a twinkle in his eyes sitting outside of the post office waiting for his friends just whittling away on a stick.   His future days were much fewer in number than those in his memories.  My father-in-law went each day to a nearby McDonald’s for coffee and conversation with his friends until he was unable to walk any longer.    When he passed, the McDonald’s manager put a brass plate with his name on edge of the table in remembrance.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s