January 31st, 2005

"In My Memory Box"

I only have good things

in my memory box.

Special things that

I want to remember.

These special things are saved

in their original incarnation.

Reborn again on my whim,

so that they never die with time.

Though dulled and brown

they bloom with vivid color.

They remember better than I

who looks to them for memory.

Special people are in my memory box,

smiling at me from some distant time.

Their faces remember well,

far better than I.

She laughs with youthful joy,

licking icing from her fingers.

Sixteen candles grace her cake,

years before I am dreamed of.

I freeze in bewilderment,

gazing at the reptile dangling from my lip.

Moments later I will cry,

years later I laugh.

They still in their struggle,

limbs tangled together betwixt strewn bedding.

Feathers drift through the air,

settling in a layer upon the scene.

He leans against his papa's knee,

proudly posing for the picture.

Another game well played,

another happy outcome.

She pauses with shock,

the flash of the unseen camera reflected in her eyes.

A sandwich dangles between her teeth,

I have caught her unawares.

He grins at me impishly,

arm thrown around my shoulder.

He knows something I do not,

but his wandering hand fills me in later.

I only have good things

in my memory box.

Special things that

I want to remember.

They remind me,

reborn in swirls of color.

Multiple memory boxes

waiting to be developed.