Mementos

I return home and empty my coat pockets
I pour out the cinnamon scented coins
scraps of paper, and the red of autumn leaves
I dig out the heavy air, and the smell of old books
mixed with the smell of rain,
and the spice of freshly cut grass
I shake out the last of the city lights
and the sound of footsteps on sidewalks
and so I gather up these pieces of moments
and tuck them away, to be pulled out and admired
when the memories themselves begin to fade

Memorial

We walk among the monuments to great deeds
and the prices paid for them
stone pillars raised in honor
of names we might never know
but as we walk by we each pay our respects
we trace the letters etched in the stone
or tap our hands along the walls
each action a personal ritual
a silent moment in our hearts
where we promise to remember
that each star is a hundred families
who paid the ultimate price

Horizon

to watch the way your mind works
the way you show me the poetry
in the things I once saw as so flat and dull
the gears turn twisting and between them
I see the golden threads that pull together the loose pieces
I spent so long reaching for the horizon with the tip of my pen
that it shocked me when you drew a measured line
between my fingertips and the highest vault of the sky
and showed me just how close it really was