Mementoes From Passing Lives

Little time capsules lie hidden,
beneath the turmoil of passing life.
Tiny mementoes laid down,
by strangers that passed this way.
Pieces of life from years gone by.
An empty cigarette packet,
someone enjoyed the contents,
But when?
The question remains unanswered.
Nuts, bolts, washers and screws.
These mementoes suggest something,
and another question.
Standing here I look around me,
remembering my time here,
and wondering what mementoes,
my life has left for strangers,
in the future years.
Again another question,
But not one I care to answer.

28 Feb.1986

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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