In My Mind, Questions Arabesque Like Dancers

I have a questioning mind that feasts like a beast on being detail oriented. The morsels I consume are what others think of as simply a waste of time. But when gathering more snippets, I find room. Most often it's a curse, denying me any answers. In my mind queries arabesque and whirl like dancers. For example, there's a beach ball that's been stuck in the rafters of the pool house where I vacation. Seven years it's been held hostage there. Just my luck that I've no clue who blew it up or why it's still inflated. I think next time I'll find a ladder and have it liberated. I wonder if someone would do the same deed for me. The places I've traveled, those I've memories of, I think I've left a part me in all the ones I love. Those faraway cities where memories often roam, and even the ones close to home that I often see. Sometimes I wonder... will I visit those places again? Walk with the sun warming my face, or in drizzling rain. I recall time with friends who treasure something I made or a silly remark I quipped that in their mind remains. I'd question them to discover who I was then in my life. Was I vagabond who didn't seem to have a care? Would I have even noticed a beach ball caught up there, or given a thought about whose lungs filled it with air? I ponder if people get sentimental sometimes like I do when I hold a keepsake from days gone by in my hand. I smile when I think that some do... those who'd understand that memories linger in my mind; links to who I used to be that tether me to that person who now has answers to questions. At least one... I'm going to take the beach ball home and release what little stale air is still trapped inside. I'll give it life with my breath until it's recovered and full blown.