In My Memory

Memory jarred

thoughts wandering back,

back to a earlier time

when this old man

was within the

years termed as “teens”

when food was sharper

and streets wider

and lips...

ah, the sweet lips of

girls sweeter then

than could now be

now in true life.

When mom was there

and chicken soup never

tasted better

Dad was there

and the family

meals never as jovial

and the laughter

never harder...

And,

of course

memory of

the tears that

fell with the

break-up of

the one special

that I loved,

of the one this

old man's mind 

still  touches on daily

and thinking now

how lucky for this girl

for now,

now 

sixty years after,

now this girl,

this girl

of my memory

is still the

the sixteen year old girl

living within

the years,

within the years

termed as “teens.”

when sweet lips,

when the sweet lips

of this girl

this old man loved

in memory

were sweeter then

than could be

now,

now in true life.

©May 8, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman