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Click hereI watch as mementos I saved
from a flood that wasn't my fault-
bend to saturation and begin
to disintegrate in the
Indian Summer rain.
Pride turns to pain
as through my negligence,
carefully preserved pieces
of my past become sodden ashes.
Why hadn't I listened to
the angry sky?
Paper, as fragile as
the memories entrusted
to the space between its pale
blue lines-melts into my night
darkened grass.
I tilt my face to the sobbing sky,
and add my own warm rain to the
chill on my face.
Pinching my arm, a reminder
to be more careful with the
memories yet to come.
Walking back inside
I whisper a goodbye and I'm sorry
to my lost words,
and the child who wrote them.
Great feelings carried here for your readers to create in their own minds. The moment that childhood momentos are lost can be quite traumatic.