Pockets - Anita Holzberg

Pockets of time
   I covet
the first time we made love
the first time I hit a home run
the first time I tasted blueberries that I picked

Pockets
  deep seated pockets
        memories walk on rainbow feet
  or was it the time we won the baseball game?
 or was it the time I learned to water ski?
or was is raspberry jam on Melba toast?

Pockets
     I always have to have pockets
           for stones gathered
                for lint found
                      for shells to hide

I wanted to live again, without remorse, without guilt
     I wanted to sing again
          with each passing moment

and I did.

Anita S. Holzberg