Music of My Memories

Music of My Memories

I try to throw my surplus stuff away,
Yet drift about, a silent wraith, and sigh;
For though I find new candidates each day,
I find myself unable to comply.
Each piece is fraught with memories, alive
With melodies that grasp my beating heart,
To dance a rueful, self-reproaching jive --
And all my best intentions fall apart.
As reminiscence steals my grand resolve,
And silently, nostalgia takes its place,
My plans to purge my spent surfeit dissolve,
Into an anthem time cannot erase.
I walk among lares and penates,
That sing the music of my memories.

Mick McKellar
May 2013


How odd that, just as I was struggling with decisions about what "stuff" to toss and what to keep, I should stumble on an old phrase for household goods: lares and penates -- referring to both household treasures and benevolent Roman household gods. It does seem that, sometimes, I worship at the altar of my toys...

Mick