The Art Of Collecting Memories
- Connelly Islay
- Jul 8
- 1 min read
The sky was the colour of a cherry that morning. As juicy as delicious. Stunning. Immense. And in the midst of my amazement, I couldn't help but reflect on how important it is to collect memories, not objects.
The art of collecting memories
About things and people
About salty breeze in your hair
And summer mornings on your lips
About the smell of flowers
and the colours of the sky
Just you. Being there,
Rooms in your mind
composing a soul
For when they ask
about your memories
You may tell them
it all was worth living
Because while days were falling apart
cherries were ripe
and the sun burned your skin
I hope this poem will stretch out of the page, becoming part of you. If you would like to read more, I write quiet reflections once a month. You may subscribe here if you would like to receive them directly in your inbox.
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