In the corner

Stuck in the corner of mind’s memory store

there lie the remains of all gone before

content perhaps or simply depressed

at their sure loss of mobility.

They cannot get up and walk into “now”

and promise to be alive the next day

but no one can say there’ll ere be a time

when constancy is the name of the game.

I miss their presence and simple chit-chat,

the look in their eyes and glorious smiles

but I visit that corner now more than before

to tender my thanks and offer comfort.

They were, they were, sometimes for years

and sometimes for a few precious weeks

but always they’ll be stuck in that corner

for as long as I am so lucky to live.

And I venture to say what a glorious thing
to be stuck in someone’s memory store!