Spring in Bloom

Front Gate

Bonica Roses in Front Garden

More roses

Front Garden

MEMORY

What is it about memory,

Constant  like taste,

A song floating across

The mind unbidden,

A bittersweet violin

Playing against decades,

Coming in and out of hearing,

But like faint soundwaves,

Never leaving,

Never disappearing.

—

A highway of sentiments

Both lost and found

Spirals of emotions

Throwing shadows

Across the beam of life.

—

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010