A Yellow Poem from '69

Another 100 word story, an extra one.  Thought I'd write something that reflects on what I treasure most, family.

I spend all my holidays (try to) with family as much as I can, greeting friends and distant relatives through the use of social media and the other electronic wonders of life.

I think that one of the few things I'll be changing is my time management.  Cutting back from work and spending more time with family (and writing, no excuses!).

This year will be spent counting stars and memories.

*picture is originally from http://filmmakeriq.com/images/photo-by-burt-glinn-1960/

                

A Yellow Poem from ‘69

               I picked up mother’s highschool yearbook from ’69, flipping through yellowed pages of time, skimming through frozen youthful smiling black and white faces, looking for that poem she wrote. 

               When I was a boy she told me how proud she was of it, reading it to me before I knew my letters.  Filling my head with rhyme and rhythm and song each night. 

               When I was a young man she asked me to keep it close.  It’s been covered with dust and forgotten since. 

               I flipped to the treasured poem on her now absent birthdays.

               Missing her more each year.