How Memories Endure

I never visit the cemetery since I turned twenty-five Gravestones don't do fair justice to the wholeness of one's life. Instead I seek that which was dear; most likely a best friend A spouse, co-worker, relative; a book with ear marks still laid in To brighten certain memories that through the years grew dim And often bring to light new ones from letters or old film. Sometimes dreaming, always believing to see the dreams mature Such lives do part rivers in time and patiently endure. RETA PRUITT September 7, 2016