One more ended and he closed the jar,
Another memory on that shelf, afar.
Thinking back throughout the day.
On certain words he chose to say.
The jars, their labels, filled the walls.
Memories stored there, stacked tall.
Trying to recover one, he fails.
Its location long set sail.
The words from that morning spoken,
In his his mind he finds a token,
Something small that he remembers.
Words before like burning embers,
Laying there slowly shirinking,
He’s careful to not give in to blinking.
And when he finally does close his eyes,
He knows the chance has passed him by.
The jars fade from view and he,
Can’t remember what he wants to see.
Then a look at the embers on the floor,
And he’s allowed something he forgot before.
His favorite jar, he finds it in place,
He remembers why he forgot it: her face.
A blessing to…
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