Memories
A lonely room
Come together
And share.
Little knickknacks
Strewn about
Forgotten
And remembered
By them
Only.
A rock sits
Once loved and
cherished
A reminder of
birthdays past
And when cheap
gifts were worth
More.
The mother
looks around
Scared of what
These items
left behind
Mean more to
her
Than to the
owner
No longer
present.
A book for a
child
Sentimental
value
More for the
giver
Than the receiver
But given when
both could
Appreciate the
lesson.
An old doll
Used and loved
to disfigurement
Always found:
Reminders of
Him who gave
the present- gone
Long ago.
A thought-
Does she still
have that dime?
Lost and
found, then
Lost again-
Or that
picture he drew for her
Why did it
have no name?
Her first gift
from someone
So special
And is there a
blessing on the item
Keeping it
intact?
The guitarist
turned artist
Bringing
feeling to pen
And thought to
drawing.
Many things
are in this room-
Candles,
racks, books and pins;
But the most
important
Item in the
room
Is no longer
here.
And the mother
sighs as she leaves,
The room stays
imperfectly still,
Both forever waiting
for an
Absolution.
Because
everything in this old room
Both here and
remembered
Are a part of
those
Memories
That are
called love.
26. January 1999
C.
C. Price