I

I am just a memory
a little bit of time
wrapped in a package
with a ribbon of days to remember.

The weave, stroked and coddled
by the edge of experience colored
with the threads of blue skies, white clouds
and misty nights.

I am just a memory
laces of laughter with drips of tears
then, more of the same.

A quilt of feelings wrap the surface
while warming the core.

I am just a memory
wrapped.
Stitched in place with patches of good and bad,
also colors of illusion and shades of reality.
Embroidered with a texture of damp musty visions
of the land, sea, stars and sunshine on a bed of

reality near the chair of meaning.