Memories

A green recliner in a smoky corner,
the smoke that smells nostalgic before despicable.
Behind the chair is the hidden stash,
of M&Ms, crackers, cigs, and black licorice.
Things he really shouldn't have,
at least the meter says so every time he pricks his finger.
Positioned perfectly before the screen so not
to miss a John Wayne,
telling me to forget the druggie Beatles
for the charming Elvis he remembers so well.

And the music of the family,
standing at attention with twinkling eyes.
Laughter filling the entire room
until everyone was a part of it.
Sitting at a cafe in the capital city,
talking to me like an equal.
Hearing me out and talking it through.
Driving past a flag turned on it's end,
made us both turn right around.

Eating bubble gum push-pops and,
running through the fields.
Changing the thermostat seven times a day,
packing everything up once more.
Whispering secrets late late at night,
and sneaking to the kitchen for a snack.
Early morning car rides and classes,
standing up to the punks on the bus.
Fighting about a boy,
never having to say I told you so.
Phone calls are plenty- growing up together,
being grown apart.