Grave Yards

Grave Yards A walk into the grave yard of my memories hoard. Life’s journeys, experiences, recollections are stored. Tombstones lay in wait, years have eroded the engravings, Nothing left of excursions but dust upon thoughts one is saving. Difficult to recall, especially in old age, all that has been written upon the pages of my history books, stories of having been smitten during life and so long ago, memories to let go of, memories to behold, of many relationship, platonic, meaningful, friendships forever to hold, laying within files, in the deep, dark depths of my memories reserve. I have to wonder, as time slips by, just how many I will preserve during what years are left to this old soul, that will come to consciousness and how many will live on, enlighten, brighten, or become forgetfulness. B. J. “A ” 2 May 6th, 2022 Dedicated to a Lover, from so far away and four plus decades ago. A Friend, for forty eight years who is shrouded by the devastation of dementia .