Companion

Desperately I hold 
the memories that fade,
A wisdom grows knowing
just how they were made.

Like Shylock reaping 
his pound of flesh,
wisdom replaces 
those moments once fresh.

As ghosts they haunt, 
dwell within my soul.
Mere shadows,
they fill not
the empty gaping hole.

So as they vanish, 
those specter's of my past,
I wonder aloud 
of the moments that last.

The eyes of my daughters 
glimpsed
for the very first time,

the vows of my bride,
sweeter than
the sweetest rhyme.

The face of my father
gaunt in his coffin,
I shudder most
at some ghosts more often.

Yet each is a page
in a book,
I have read
and know it to be,
an epic adventure,

my glorious journey.