by Debi Swim
Old photographs and 8mm home movies
boxed and stored away waiting for a
rainy day of perusal and the usual
smiles, embarrassed grins, tears and yens
for those old days, gone days, nevermore days.
Christmases, birthdays, picnics, family reunions,
graduations, weddings, babies, toddlers and teens,
the years fly by like a dream, a stream of poignant
memories and faces no longer seen. Alive then,
long time gone now, just a hiccup, an interrupt
in the continuum of life. And the rain pours down,
peters out, the sun comes blaring through the clouds
and the seconds fly by and here am I wondering
who’ll be next. Someday, on another rainy day,
who will be looking for my face?
Debi Swim writes primarily to prompts. She is a wife, mother, grandmother and happy WV poet.