Monday, June 10, 2013

Affection for Memory

Some might call it nostalgia,
others might say the good
old days. A few more might
call it the Salad Days, or
Days of Wine and Roses.

Back when I was young,
or before you were yet a
twinkle in your mother’s
eye. Or you were only
knee high to a grasshopper
or that’s just how things used to be.  

There was an existence
before your existence and
it’s remember it in so many
different and shocking ways,
by so many different people.

I’m afflicted with memories
of an ever growing past
and a fear of the shortening
future. Remember whens are
becoming more frequent than
the soon to be seen.

Perspective on the past can
lighten the darkest history.
I called you terrible names and
felt a deep anger about how
you treated me, but now, after
time has dealt its hand, I don’t
feel that way so strongly.

Memories are softer, smeared
with Vaseline over the
lens of history, smoothing the
rough edges and tenderizing the
original anger into milder
annoyance, then into nearly
nothing at all.

All that is left is the a vacant
feeling that you’ve seen this
before, but know how to handle
it deftly and without too
much kerfuffle. The benefits
of memory, stretched out
in front of you like a familiar
road home.

Home, where your heart is,
beating your own drum to
the melody written by
your memory. 

I dance through the
past with a wry eye on
the future. The tune resembles
one I’ve known forever, but
learn new ways to hear.

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