If I could stack up my memories
each one a thin slice of life
would they add up to much
or simply be such
as a bland playing card of no worth
my treasures are mine for no reason
a laugh, a tear or a sigh
their value is in how I made them
and their price
only measured by me
a memory is only a window
on a sliver of time that has passed
but as life’s river flows on
to still hear it’s song
some shutters must be closed in haste
I know that they wait in the gloaming
jewelled lights covered in dust
some day a hand will brush gently
heart open, soul smiling
and let them shine once again.
© ceenoa
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