1951.

July 14, 2011
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Hanging on the wall, covered in a film of dust lies the remnants of a life together
Sixty years have past, and what else has gone with the time
Does love age as wine does? does it still get you light headed at the first sip -
Does it still stain your teeth, leaving its mark long after the glass has been put away
As each day passes, does it grow stronger still?
Does it increase in value, is it something to be treasured?
You were never a big drinker, and like the wine you so carelessly tossed in the cellar,
Your love has grown neglected
A treasure, some may call it: sixty years, six children, twelve grandchildren
Yet all you see is the unopened bottle - a taste never truly explored

Pink chiffon, adorned with a matching carnation
Did you know then, what you know now?
Did you foresee the inevitable, did you know the drunk would wean?
You were intoxicated with one another: melded, one.
Grasping so tightly, so sure - at sixteen, you knew
Is that where naivety comes into play?
And as you watch the boy you took to your homecoming dance grasp for air
Eyes, nothing but cold slants with an air of disinterest
I can't help but wonder
What is more real to you: the memories, or the hazy dust which engulfs them?





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