That's what I used to do,
run to catch the ball.
Run like the wind, no caution
to the bumps in the road,
no thoughts of future consequence,
or the concrete beneath my feet.
Broken bones, like broken dreams
can be mended by time.
What was done years ago. . . is referred to as often as though
it was a was a preacher's sermon
ignored every Sunday.
Whether the scent of roses remembered,
or the fact that you could touch the sky.
I guess it doesn't make any difference
everything is sweeter when you are young , and the world sparkles like a diamond.
Memories such as these are kept close
in a treasure chest, known as your mind.
Let no one steal your key, or you will be
locked out of your past, with no past,
can the fall of the future be far behind?. . .
Timothy Michael DiVito c2019
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