Down the road less traveled

There is a place with a million

steps that are worn away -  I

decided to venture; at the top

I walked down a cobblestone

street . . .

I came up to an old wooden door

That when opened turned into a

daguerreotype stained in black

and gray – silhouettes of all my

loved ones from the  past were

inside . . .

Hundreds of years of dust tried

To cover all memories – the walls

echoed their voices that were once

heard; mirrors still reflected the light

from smiling faces; I began to feel their

presence . . .

Then aging voices whispered to me

The way things use to be – they were

no longer strangers; took me back to a

special time, it was now in my heart; and

if I ever lost my way, just close my eyes and

dream . . .

Their footsteps were no longer heard

But were now frozen in time – as I got

ready to leave, a feeling of solace took

me back one last time to a place that

seemed so familiar; a part of them was with

me . . .

‘2009’ RLS