Because we soon forget those who are gone…

but as long as we are here…

we can hear still hear their songs…

notes… just a snippet of mine, when those we love pass away, they leave our every day, but sometimes the best things remain, a saying, a voice, a time, a memory, an ice cream on the boardwalk on the jersey shore, a beat up beach chair, the smell of a cheap white owl cigar, shooting the shit with neighbors long gone on a rock on the lawn, the white grilled cheese at the port royal with a breeze by the pool, the wicker plate from a stripper’s place with the best damn hamburger you ever had, sure, some of these are foreign to you but are canon to me… you have your own, you know the feeling, so what’s your baubles, what are your memories that recall… those that are gone, with a smile, for a mile, that recall the best of things in this messed up world… ?