We follow each-other in life, treading behind the one in front, reaching stages like little pylon flags and then celebrating the stunt.
From beginning "big kid school" to finally graduating from the nest, It's hard to say precisely what will come of our long quest.
Faces, those once familiar; pop up along the way, what has life given them you ask, and what parts are still grey.
Stories swapped to fill in the spaces after an inquisitive "How'v you been?" You can't help but see them through eyes of the past as you briefly fill them in.
Where do the faces go however when life says "that's a wrap"? All the faces stuck in our minds one day and then the next they're ready for the scrap.
Life's like passing pylon flags, a tick for each good deed, we do it for ourselves mostly but don't mind a bit of meed.
YOU ARE READING
The Lucid Memoir
PoetryAn Assortment of Poems and Observations with perhaps a tint of personified disclosure at times.
