As I look through my memories,

I see the black and white,

the color, the frayed, the bright,

I see it all in front of me,

the good, bad and ugly.

Some of the memories

don't have a meaning for me anymore.

Some of the memories

seem like they happened yesterday.

Some of the memories

aren't as clear as they once were.

Some of the memories

are so detailed I can see buttons on a shirt.

I think about these memories

like they are pages in my book.

Some are worn, print is faded

but i...