Saturday, January 31, 2009

Used: a poem in four thoughts

I find myself rummaging through an old garage sale bin, filled with unsold memories.
Electric leavings and splashes of sound form what I use of those days past.
Each reminiscence has value, but not nearly so much as the hands which now hold, rotate, and examine.

I am too young to live in the past.

1 comment:

  1. Naw, man, i think anyone's old enough to nostalgia trip, once you read Slaughterhouse Five, you realize that from the second you're born, you start the movie of your life, which is free for you to rewind and revisit whenever you want, just remember to make more interesting scenes in the present and future, yknow?