After all, it’s the wear and the aging that tell us just how near and dear those memories truly are to us. Better a memory yellowed by touch than a keepsake kept clean by neglect.
This is such a beautiful poem! Following for more and inspired to write like this!
Josh, you touched it, touched that fragile reminder of life we want to have, someone to remember us. That box, I have one, it’s full of pressed flowers, notes, yellowing pictures. Every now and again, I’ll take it out and hold all those items one by one lovingly, remembering the people that have passed through my life. Whether we are separated by distance, time, or death.
I like to give just a little bit of energy back and thank them for gracing my life with their presence no matter how fleeting it may have been. Your poem brought tears to my eyes. Just lovely.
Dorie, thank you so much for taking the time to share such a beautiful personal experience. I also revisit my little store of memories from time to time. It’s a wonderful reminder that our loved ones live on inside of us. ❤️
Man… this one touches a tender place I rarely name.
I carry old ticket stubs, faded photos, and books stacked like small altars because some part of me wants to hold the moments I never want to lose. I often tell myself that one day I might teach someone something from these pages or memories, yet a quieter truth waits behind that thought — sometimes the letting go carries its own lesson.
When I loosen my grip, even for a breath, I feel how memory moves with me anyway, how the body keeps what matters long after the object leaves my hand.
Creative and beautifully written! ❤️❤️
Thank you for your kind words 🙏♥️
This is beautiful and very relatable as someone occasionally guilty of hoarding and keeping things as you outline in the piece.
Thank you so much, Gary 🙏
"We press the flowers from the funeral spray
and store them in a box we’ll never touch,
as if by keeping we could make them stay,
as if by loving we could love too much."
This is so bittersweet and beautiful! An experience to read, Josh. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for your kind words. You are appreciated ❤️✨☺️
“Though ourselves the kind of thing that keeps.” Great line. The whole final lines are well written. Suddenly I feel like a hoarder. Haha
I can relate to that feeling! Thanks for taking the time to read 🙏 ♥️
After all, it’s the wear and the aging that tell us just how near and dear those memories truly are to us. Better a memory yellowed by touch than a keepsake kept clean by neglect.
This is such a beautiful poem! Following for more and inspired to write like this!
Thank you for your kind words and sharing your thoughts. I greatly appreciate it 🙏 💙
OMG excellent brilliant work 🫶
Thank you so much, Hina ♥️
Amazing ❤️🩹❤️
Thank you 💜 ✨
Josh, you touched it, touched that fragile reminder of life we want to have, someone to remember us. That box, I have one, it’s full of pressed flowers, notes, yellowing pictures. Every now and again, I’ll take it out and hold all those items one by one lovingly, remembering the people that have passed through my life. Whether we are separated by distance, time, or death.
I like to give just a little bit of energy back and thank them for gracing my life with their presence no matter how fleeting it may have been. Your poem brought tears to my eyes. Just lovely.
Dorie, thank you so much for taking the time to share such a beautiful personal experience. I also revisit my little store of memories from time to time. It’s a wonderful reminder that our loved ones live on inside of us. ❤️
Masterful...in structure, form, and subject
Thank you, friend. I always appreciate your comments 💙
You're most welcome
Man… this one touches a tender place I rarely name.
I carry old ticket stubs, faded photos, and books stacked like small altars because some part of me wants to hold the moments I never want to lose. I often tell myself that one day I might teach someone something from these pages or memories, yet a quieter truth waits behind that thought — sometimes the letting go carries its own lesson.
When I loosen my grip, even for a breath, I feel how memory moves with me anyway, how the body keeps what matters long after the object leaves my hand.
I appreciate this piece, truly.
Thank you for leaving such a thoughtful comment! I completely relate to your experience, as I do precisely the same thing. ♥️
Very beautiful poem.
Thank you so much, Phoeby ✨♥️
This is so beautifully written and so very true. If only…❣️❤️🩹❤️
Thank you, Tammy! I appreciate your kind words 🙏💙
So beautiful Josh 😥❤️🙏🏼🧘🏻✨🌖
Thank you! So glad you like it 💙