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….