candid photographs from the past
lie unobtrusively in the drawer
of my desk. First drawer
on the right.
Like pieces of my life
A small stack, quiet
In the darkness
A younger me
My daughter- now a young lady
Then a small tiger,
with black marker whiskers
and black marker nose,
held in my arms,
How a black marker
a three year old
into a tiger
Like memories lying
quietly in a drawer.
Neal Beightol's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Memories by Neal Beightol )
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