We do not remember days; we remember
moments—the sudden burst of laughter
over breakfast, the way rain taps at
windows during an afternoon nap.
The scent of pine during a walk,
the surprise of a deer in the woods,
pausing as if to offer a secret.
Small interventions of time that
light up like matches in the dark,
the touch of a hand unexpectedly
warm, an old song on the radio
easing traffic's aggravation. It is
never the whole day that stays, only
fragments—tiny, stubborn diamonds
of joy, sorrow, surprise, lodged in our
memories, glittering constellations
in the sky of all our yesterdays.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: February 4th, 2025 12:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Tis so true and a great line (memories, glittering constellations in the sky of all our yesterdays.) A very poignant write and deserves a fave
Thanks Soren, I appreciate your generous feedback.
That is a lovely read and clever observation being only moments we remember, i had never thought of it like that before but it is so true, really enjoyed the read
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