Freshness Date

I was thirteen.
I was fourteen, fifteen and other numbers as well.

I wanted to live them out of sequence.
An unwritten rule prevented that.

Every human face I have ever known
wears several ages simultaneously.

I am sure you have noted this phenomenon
and wished your eyes sparkled like when you were ten.

Some dates within the calendar of my years
are larger than other dates and my mind returns to them regularly.

I have laid in bed thinking about some of those
mostly because those dates demanded it.

Last night I reviewed sitting low among the rocks
high up above the clouds on the Spanish Peaks

and calming the dogs as a thunderstorm arced lightning
across the tops of the clouds a hundred feet below us.

That was thirty years ago, but the ozone
smells as fresh as if the percussions rumbled through me now.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

Sequential By Date

I hope you thought
my hesitation at greeting you
with your name
was me simply
searching through
files and files of memory images
to locate one
with your face
that still had the caption
printed just below
the color field
in the white border.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

postscript

I am one of those people who will remember your face for just about forever, but has trouble attaching names to the faces. It is not a problem with people I see regularly, but with the folks I run into infrequently.

I would like to say it is an age issue, but I have had this problem for as long as I can remember.