Wednesday, July 8, 2009

A Place of the Forgotten

What would you find, in a place of the forgotten?
A place that always remembers,
And holds what you have lost.
I have been to such a place.
A time not too long ago,
And as I glanced about the room,
Filled with things from childhood days,
I wondered what I would take,
Had I a basket of Recovery,
With which to hold these treasures once more.
A tiny sweater, lost from younger years,
When I was careless, small, and free.
A wetsuit, still sandy from its sun-filled days,
That would hardly fit me anymore.
An old pillow, sewn with care from forgotten friends,
But their names are still there.
A lonely dice, separated from its tumbling partner,
Never to roll again.
A friendship, frayed and weathered by distance,
Which I would gladly mend and renew.
Innocence, the one thing every child has lost,
And which they can never hope to get back again.
Memories, like grains of sand,
Too many to retain within cupped hands.
My Reserve, vanquished by time and friends,
Which I quietly put back on the shelf.
What would you find, in a place of the forgotten?
What would you take?
And what would you leave behind,
To gather dust where the lost is found.

2 comments:

  1. I love the "basket of recovery" and once again you shift the poem from the direction it seems to be going to asking a larger more meaningful question, what would we leave behind us if we could just shut the door. Nice.

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  2. I love all the things you list: the friendship (that gave me chills), the sweater, the sandy wetsuit. And then of course the question at the end brings the poem to a whole new level!

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