The Sustenance of Memories

The Sustenance of Memories Sights and sounds, familiar old smells. Dingy old pictures and Sunday school Bells. Hot summer days riding bikes in the street, warm summer nights, Mister Softee would treat. The smell of the pipe, Grand-papa would smoke, the connection between us, that long running joke. White Christmas mornings, filled with such glee, up all night wondering, what was under that tree. The music was magical, using weird kinds of players, 33's, 45's, stacked neatly in layers. Crammed in the wagon, heading off to the mall, the back seat, the floor hump, and my dumb brother Paul. Oh what a pleasure, is how it would seem. Love, friends and family, on the same team.