Pear Drop Memories

in the glass jar

behind the pear drops

are some memories

 

they have no insistence

 

if I pull out the cork

I can lay them

on a white handkerchief

 

they have no order

 

they are more delicate

than they used to be

filigree sugar – work

 

they have no substance

 

I can weave them

with the thread of time

to build a tapestry

 

they are a story

 

the sell by date

on the jar’s bottom

has long expired

 

they have no tang left

 

like cirrus envelopes

they float across room,

rice paper notes

 

they have no more rain

 

I can pour them

into a paper sweet bag

and then twist the corners

 

they have no weight

 

dried in a tissue

wrapped in gossamer

now back in the jar

 

they are ready for bed

 

I know where to find them

in a glass jar

behind the pear drops….