A corrugated box,
Stored high on a shelf
In the basement boiler room
Cobwebbed carton
Keeping slides and slices of me
Memorized
Magically encapsulated
In the pages of a dozen calendars
That are dotted and dashed
With events and appointments
I once attended
Or kept
With the right handed held Sharpie
Initials...S.L. contents
Declaring those days once were mine
To do with as I pleased
Handwritten reminders of birthday' s
Of lover's
When the Yankee would play the Red Sox
When my mother died
When my dentist expected me
To show up with a little courage
When my rent was due
When my beautiful nieces were born
When my heart was broken
When the circus was coming to town
All in a pile, stacks of years lived
Some better than others
Why I saved them
I am not entirely sure
Perhaps to remain myself
Three hundred sixty five days
Though often felt an eternity
Merely just calendar pages
Susan Lacovara
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marked-yesterdays/
