I remember this park
JFK, where I climbed the trees
and Paul kissed me.
I remember this lane
where I pissed half-naked
drunk and stoned once again.
I remember this club
where I met my husband
on one dollar shot nights
barely able to drive
outta the womb.
I remember this bus
where I met my friends
down Park avenue.
I keep on forgetting
that you don’t live here anymore.
I keep on forgetting
that you took my suitcase with you.
I keep on forgetting
you never replied to my letters.
But once in a while
I climb up that tree
old forty-seven year old me
remembering and forgetting
all of our first kisses.
Funny how,
every time I saw you
it was like the first time.
Funny how,
I did not recognize you
from the back anymore.
wonderful …keep doing your good work. we are really blessed to read this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So gracious of you to say, appreciate that very much.
LikeLike
Love this made me smile x
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bitter sweet, the memories, and expressed so perfectly in your poem…
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you
LikeLike
You know how to make a man be still….
LikeLiked by 1 person
wow, never heard that before, interesting visual…I think perhaps with words, but not sure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why your words touched and stilled…who knows…talent…a gift…you have and give…I believe so…
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person