Alison Garwood Jones

Home

December 31, 2013

After you lose your parents,

You start to wonder if your family ever existed.

That feeling of being part of a team alters,

Then disintegrates over time.

New alliances form.

Continents and decades are crossed in a valiant search for that next Home.

Siblings become more like old classmates,

People you used to know because time and space brought you together before pulling you apart after graduation.

You turn to photos to review what was.

Paper prints with scalloped edges,

Rounded corners

And double prints.

Past selves and old contexts rush to the foreground,

And pop like firecrackers inside your rib cage.

Mommy and I sure used to hug a lot.

That was a good Christmas (an Easy Bake Oven!)

I swore I’d never throw out those boots.

Or let that friendship lapse.

Other keepsakes (Polaroids) are cracking like old paintings.

So soon?

Memories aren’t supposed to turn to dust this fast.

You start scanning and saving them to the cloud,

Loading the sky with memories,

And hoping loved ones outside the bounds of earth will protect your memories from the ravages of time.

 

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on LinkedIn
 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *