Friday, April 13, 2012

the price of memories




what outside influence
intrudes upon us surreptitiously
stealthily
stealing our breath like carbon monoxide
letting us do something we don’t want to
explain 

as the soaring price of
precious metals seeps into our consciousness
heirlooms have found their way
reversing the gold rush
to pawn shops
coin dealers
hotel lobbies
instead of into jewelry boxes
dresser drawers of nieces
or nephews 

no dust or danger
no pack horse or partner
searching for Sutter’s Mill
just a paved strip mall parking lot
and a sandwich bag of rings, lockets, chains
the remains, the props of the past
the stuff of personal history 

more than gold traded but
the memories weigh easy
on the digital scale
the tipping point, the balance
some logic that someone else
would just stake their claim 

after we’re gone 

Barry DeCarli
April 12, 2012
Copyright 2012 Barry DeCarli




2 comments:

  1. Stunning, Barry. Your words take me with you and hold me captive.

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    Replies
    1. Gillian, I can't imagine better praise. Thank you. (you know that I read this 2 years ago, but I never replied here until now).

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