Memory

The man who broke her heart.

The perfect moment in time.

The day they plunged into the cold lake

after two bottles of wine.

The day he lost his fortune,

after pissing it away.

The night the bridge had closed

after her brother jumped into the bay.

The long line at the soup kitchen,

where they ran out of supply

before the man could get a bite —

before he demanded God answer why.

The different ways they treat him

at the reunion in the home

where family was once tight-knit —

before they left him all alone.

The birthday cake and cards

from the friends who were once there,

but now have moved away

and never show they care.

A sunset with her husband.

A vacation in the west

that drained them of the savings

that caused him to suggest

a better life for her

as he lost his confidence.

He took off one cold morning

and hasn’t been seen since.

We all have memories

that cause us to relive,

but staying there becomes a problem

for those who won’t forgive

themselves, or the other,

who hurt them in some way.

They have a tendency

to hold onto yesterday.

A wasted life is present

with memories that bind

the life that happened then;

those things that are behind.

2 thoughts on “Memory

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