time seasons the memories
and they become
so personal
and defining
they belong to no one else
and have a life all their own
this spirit
this dimension
this force
it’s the reason that people
very old
smile to themselves
looking detached
they are recalling
splendidly
youthfully
wickedly
yesterday’s events
her smell
her feel
sounds
nipples
explosions
they never cease
they just become
who we are
when there is nothing left
these memories
sustain and nourish
they baste our soul
give us air
we were
we are
still
and forever
there
Mike's Look at Life 
very beautiful
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Thanks Shimon.
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Shimon, read my poem…”all gone”
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I read it, but couldn’t comment… couldn’t even push the like button. It was too close to home…
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Well that is not a likable read, and it is also very close to home for me. Thank you.
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