Memories

 

 

Several things happened,

On the journey to now,

Yet it’s hard to remember,

The when and the how,

The picture book images,

Of where we have been,

The people we have met,

And the faces we’ve seen,

The scent of a memory,

That clings in the air,

Like the smell of the ocean,

Or the smoke of the fair,

The touch of a keepsake,

The rattle of a charm,

The taste of excitement,

Of not knowing harm,

The echoes we carry,

We store deep within,

For everything must end,

For something to begin.

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