Remember the buds on the branches of ancient trees, remember the children born in a time of make believe.
Strangers meet and friendships begin, enemies unite and become the closest of friends.
The moon floats above us and the stars they decorate, the airplanes come and go sounding like an old man’s serenade.
Musicians stand on the corner, empty bucket and an acoustic guitar, singing Bob Dylan songs poorly and causing all who hear to run.
Children running in the park, lovers waiting for that “Spark.” Will it ever come those fireworks they promised to us?
Rivers rush on, oceans pulsate and still are the ponds.
Hearts beating sending blood rushing and causing the mind to ache – in thoughts and memories filled with smiles and pain.
Can you remember that one day we walked hand in hand, looked within each other eye to eye?
Can you remember how I just could not understand what it meant to live and then to die?
He was an old man they say – too old to have lived at all.
“Was he ever a dreamer, M’am or was he born to die?”
Did he ever think about singing or playing ball?
Long forgotten poetry – thrown away and then pulled out and preserved.
Memories crumpled – they got what they deserved.

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