Tickets to a Dream

 

I came across tickets to our Paris

wedding when cleaning out drawers, closets,

and cabinets.  Stuck inside a simple guide

to conversational French, it slipped out

when I riffled the pages – dreams spilling

on to the floor as memory of plans

filled the room.  Long talks at midnight about

passports and pictures – the Eiffel tower

and Champs-Elysees – crowded in on me;

all at once overwhelming my senses.

 

That’s gonna change my life – your words echo

in your absence, leave me alone – again.

 

I tuck the tickets away, a memory

I’m not willing to give up – not quite yet.

 

© Siobhan

2-2-09

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