"Thanks for the Memories"

Looking into the past
I see the fallen love I worked so hard to save
Lying in the ashes of resentment and dissatisfaction

I see the fields of purple and pink
Where I used to pick flowers for my grandmother
Now dug up and paved

I can smell the petrichor from the interstate
The same way I did when I was sitting in my mom's backyard
Pretending to make cakes from the dirt, and herbs from the grass and weeds

I sometimes rest my hand atop standing water
To remember what it felt like
To envy and respect water as I once did.

It always amazes me,
The things that become core memories
And the little things that bring them back to life.

I wonder what future memories I’ll make today.
Maybe ones that will nudge my senses in the same manner as my younger years do today
I walk towards the unknown and away from the familiar

I take a handful of soft, sifted dirt
And toss it into the grave of the life I once lived
Onto my engraved casket that reads
“Thanks for the memories”