So, yeah.... I had planned to write the review of the book I just finished, and was all excited about it. But then last night whilst driving back from karate I realized I left it at work (cause I finished reading on my lunch break.) Now, I could try to wing-it and go without but there are a couple of passages in there that I just cannot live without including in my description so I figure I'd delay till Monday and hope you all don't notice.
In the meantime, I've come up with something totally different for your reading pleasure. It's still sort-of a work in progress, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless:
How is it that even memories can collect dust?
Tucked away in my mind, but as filthy as old toys
that haven't been touched in years.
Every corner cluttered with fragments and visions.
That big jar of pennies dad kept behind the door
it never moved.
That old chandalier that shorted out
one blub at a time
but we never took down.
Every unique object.
Every stain and spill.
The light that illuminated our lives.
Now sitting, dulled and faded
but not vanished.