I remember talking about marmalade of all things,
The different kinds you could buy
In different parts of the world.
It was a meaningless discussion that somehow became
One of the most meaningful in my life.
In between the crocodile poses and the
Madness of my car traveling from town to town,
I remember.
It was like reaching for the last pickle in the pickle jar,
I could not get my fingers around it and finally
Gave up, thinking that the last pickle was not that tasty after all.
I have thrown away many pickle jars with one pickle in each.
But now and then, I am able to pull one out to enjoy
With a sandwich.
I have not spoken to you in a long time, but our conversations
Are rekindled in my mind, amidst charcoal pencil drawings,
And planning lessons, a picture, a thought, a memory that
Sparks in my mind, like little marbles scattered on
The floor.
I wish I could gather up all those marbles and place them in a
Package to mail to you for Christmas or perhaps New Year's.
Then when I visited, we could play a game of marbles like we
Were kids again, turning back the clock to those days of innocence.
Then we could have pickle sandwiches with the best marmalade
Money can buy. But I guess life is not that simple anymore.
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