Memory Lane

Today, the car is in cruise control.
I take it slow and go with the flow.
Today, I take a ride down Memory
Lane. I revisit past pain and travel
through time frames: different days.
I unravel. I tear up gravel to navigate
an unknown fate. I carry weight;
I talk to my shadows: old versions
of myself. Sometimes, I ask them
for help – words of advice. Miles
into Memory Lane, I face pain
and embrace joy all the same.
I see old friends of mine the way
they were before I last saw them.
I notice houses I used to live in;
I recognize yards I used to play in.
I begin to see places I have been.
Today, I met with Father Time
and rode down Memory Lane
before any new memories came.



Down the Street

Down the street,
there are friends and foes.
I go for walks and wave to them all.
What they are doing, no one knows.
If I need sugar, I know who to call.
Down the street,
not one house is the same.
I go for walks and look at them all.
Each vacant house must have a name.
The houses we build will someday fall.
Down the street,
I notice others just like myself –
others resembling sisters and brothers.
When I see them in pain, I must help;
a skill I learned from my mother.
Down the street,
there are houses that we must see.
I’ll walk by with my head held high.
Down the street,
I see neighbors feeling oh, so free
all before the street lights die.