A Memory An Attic A Trip

 

Antique trunk of memories

musty, moldy-artfully carved

the lid to raise a Pandora box

of ugly pain; sweet nostalgia.

 

Associations of youth, recall

the joy of innocence.

reverie of yesterdays.

Sweet pain.

 

I look to you, a sky of blue

frames soulful depth: emotions

waves of yesterday lend to softness

a new memory of twinkling bliss.

 

Your face is the clouds

framing Truth, ablaze with

Passion;  Simple words of

emotion-inexplicable.

 

Sweet crackling leaves, terrain of

nature’s roughness gives way

to a connection of now…

to move to sweet memory –

 

My Attic – a – richness a

trip of your memories

the journey as I now create

my own with yours into

 

one.

 

Hearts pushing – thrusting – into

an unknown future of Hope.

 

 

 

 

Copyright © October 2003   Amy L. Allison

 

 

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