Souvenirs
We cherish our souvenirs
echoes from the past
tales of where we've been
preventing us from making choices
as to where we can go
dust collecting dust
bones in our closets
each a memorial unto its self
yesterday's pain held captive
within a single glance
as another lonely winter approaches
the shelves have become barren
like the trees from bitter frost
my souvenirs thrown away
yet who can rid memories from the soul.
Bob Shank, Oct.17th, 2006
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