Surfing Memories
Although good lines are not accidents
How I love to surf an old memory that
Floats into consciousness, a fall colored leaf,
With hues never seen before, its heart exposed,
Drifting past my car along an earthen curb
That is transient too, and new rain erodes with time.
Magical images, dearer for distance perhaps,
But headed for oblivion none-the-less,
Like a love that only one heart still remembers.
Ah! It is good to be old, with so much treasure,
Even if I am the only one left who can touch it,
Feel its heft, or judge its impact on future lives.
October's rain has cleaned the air and
The decaying leaves in the gutter smell sweet,
Okay with the cycles of life that engulf them.
I swirl the cut tea in the bottom of my cup,
And wait expectantly for the future they predict,
Knowing, trusting, feeling all is well!
Brian Johnston
January 5, 2018
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment