Recollection

I sit on my boxes and cry.

So many memories, and I've saved them all:

A bottlecap to remind me of my first date,
a newspaper where I'll find that one, life-changing tidbit-

Now it's ten years old,
and my life never changed.

I hold on to them, though.  Just in case.

62 years-- gone.
2 marriages-- gone.
3 kids-- gone, and they never visit.
22,630 memories, at least. And they're still here.

How can you live like that? They ask.
How can I not?
Each memory I can touch--I can't throw them away.
There are mountains of memories with a little path winding through.
You can stop anywhere and revisit.

All of it's special,
not like me.
I'm just their keeper,
one day they'll see.

It's beyond them right now, but someday they'll see...
The value of my lonesome job.
Sometimes I sit on these boxes and cry.