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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Memories



Time is the villain

An unwelcome notion

Yet each day a tribute

That affords us devotion


Impressions once strong

Now fleetingly flee

A kiss outright hopes

To spark memory


Our goodness steadfast

Never undoubted

Draws out from me

Whispered not shouted


When taking the time

To loosen and laugh

Sifting through box

Of endeared photographs


One day they are faded

Dull sepia-toned

The image is lost

Turned gray as a stone


Then all that is left

Is dim and threadbare

Remembrance that lingers

Like a sigh in the air


You must never let go

At your watch never sleep

For the memoirs of mind

Are the gifts that we keep

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