Memories – A Poem

I was afraid to slow down, stop

sometimes being still

means feeling it all,

letting it burn.

Memories washing onto the shore of my mind

like waves

sometimes a gentle lapping

other times a powerful pummeling

And what do you do with those memories

that are too sweet to forget

yet too tender to remember?

Do you shove them into an interstitial crevice in the brain

close the door and hope they don’t seep out?

Do you package them up?

Wrap them in a bow and

leave them on yesterdays doorstep?

Let them loiter and permeate the present?

or just

leave them be