mementos

with unopened covers and uncracked spines
they rest there, waiting for
the endless hours of attention needed
jsut as I need my back cracked and my clothes removed
in ravish praise of all this soul offers

with dusty liners and smudged cases
they rest there, calling out
for recalled memories of notes that have long since lost their fashion
just as I notice my own smudges and wrinkles and talents
left in the breeze for past years’ remembrance on wadena news headlines

with nary a relative or friend in sight
they rest there, waiting
for the effort it would take to awake that past false excitement I expressed
just as I sometimes look around and wonder, “who do I truly know?
Who is in my phonebook that matters? whose mind have I ever really explored?”

with unfocused eyes and mouths and even teeth
smiling off into the albums pages, searching
for the moment when a camera flash seemed to heighten the mood
just as I vividly recall the good old days when my mementos
fulfilled this joyous mind with enough passion to instill it to continue.

and now, I don’t need them. they are all mere items.
but such ideas! brilliant light shimmers from their
shores, they are the lighthouses I search for
in times of distress.
I’ve been that distant boat off crashing on the waves
and I’ve known that coastguard ship searching for survivors
and I’ve felt that gutwrenching feeling it takes
to feel impenetrated by jagged rocks.

but I also know love. and I also know hate.
and I know the type of emotion I’d rather re-live
with these mementos.