i’ve got memories that live

outside my little mind

and when I’m old and feeble

the good ones will refuse to die

they’ll just go on blooming

like an old homestead’s roses would

and passers by will wonder

just how on earth they could

but when the soil’s reclaimed all else

their beauty in season will show

that’s how my memories of you will linger

as the petals come and go

© Joel Tipple