Scrapheap of memories

scrapheap 1

My quest for inspiration

sometimes finds me in backyards

among the garbage cans and the trash,

sifting among the disposables

for which you no longer have  use.


What was once so valued,

necessary like the breathing of air,

lies dormant on careless scrapheaps of memory,

the particles of dust blowing in the wind,

or the shiny dewdrops’ subtle evaporation.


But in these backyards I still find,

traces of the beauty, the pain, the longing,

secrets of love lost, or found again,

evidence of how quickly today

turns into the autumn of yesterday.


Though we move on,

eventually forget, little do we realize,

how much is preserved in our hearts

and the hidden closets of our minds –

that which becomes integral,

To who  we become.