of things in a frame
the picture frames hung upon the walls
of my house
in an ambient,
yet reverent silence
adorning my home
with a warmth of memories
and there were some
sitting on Coffee tables and such
some were ornate
others plain
but all placed where
there
as a reminder
of this path i have walked
at some time ago
into my “Now”
i sit and revisit
thoughts, smiles and tears
i had let ease into
a state of distant embrace
where these memories had been bedded
embedded into my character
shaping me
molding me
yet still holding me
in a weathered tethered web
that could not
would not
let go
there were pictures
of my children
friends, acquaintances
sisters and brothers
my Father and Mother
and grandchildren too
and many other souls
i at one time knew
and though i was somewhat cognizant
of the people
who adorned this steeple
where my life’s alter resided
which coincided in my now
there were the times
that somehow
escaped me
and left me
to become some sort of history
reminding me
of who i used to be
i look at the holders of these memories
and each perhaps had a meaning
some uplifting
some gleaning me
from my hull of self
i look at these frames
who embrace the names
of the times
in a land of rhymes
the ones i loved
and love still
yes, these frames
embrace that part of me
i no longer face
a part of me
i had long put away
just for this day
that i may reflect
while looking
on the meaning
of things in a frame
Frames
sometimes a thought
sometimes a word
sometimes a taste
sometimes a smell
sometime a touch
but always a feeling
(c) 12 January 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.
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