The Memory Museum

Keystone-france/getty image

I once saw John Lennon's yellow Rolls

in the Victoria Museum.

It was like touching my younger years,

those songs that were the soundtrack

of my life, through all the smiles and tears.

These days, I wander through the halls

of my memory museum,

plucking out random moments:

the coffeehouse on Saturday night,

Stephanie, age three, running like 

a tipsy teakettle across the park at sunset,

the movie Jonathan,

which made my soul take flight.

Down all those years, I gathered memories

like plums, stored them away

until today: when I can pluck them,

one by one, and, for just a moment,

make them stay.

For Susan's Midweek Motif: Museums