the patchy scrapbook in my mind
is cherished treasure - sometimes.
striking black and white keys in regulated form
we did for fun, we laughed, we sung
a memory so vivid and clear to me
since you brought it up and allowed me to see
just how close to you and dearly you held it
while i brushed it off - swept it under the carpet.
we were kids, just teens, kickin' around
enjoying life, love, and sound
he remembers the song - the way we played it
he is learning it now because it was his favourite
memory of us - a memory i will hold close and dear
one i lost that is now so clear
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1 comment:
great poem coz, and it has a lot of meaning to me as well even if it means something different to you. I can relate to the joy of having half-forgotten memories come back full.
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