It's not yesterday I long for.
It's the yesterdays of earlier years
That call out loudly for me.
They question me, taunt me and
accuse me of not paying attention.
I'd like a backyard, summer, childhood
Yesterday. With mom's best chicken on
the hibachi and dad's baseball pop-ups
flying over the freshly mowed lawn.
I'd like a costumed, scripted, highschool
Yesterday. Under the lights, in full
makeup, surrounded by my workshop friends
who agree, "the play's the thing"!
And I'd really, really like a
playful, whimsical, giggly, cuddly "just us"
Yesterday. A Mommy, Daddy, Liss, Jer,
Pooh and Little Mermaid play date.
It's the yesterdays of earlier years,
now captured in photos and gathered
in albums that serve to remind
me that, "the true art of
memory is the art of attention."