I vaguely remember
My first day at school.
New clothes and supplies,
Help finding my desk.


I clearly remember
My first recital.
My mom, the piano,
“Bicycle Built for Two.”


And then there’s that memory
That can trouble my soul:
so big, overwhelming.
First day in Junior high,


I’m pleased to remember
My graduation day.
excitement and hope,
Good-byes and moving on.


So many memories
Of firsts and special times,
Some sad, others pleasant;
Always part of my life.


It’s funny how memories
Help to shape who we are.
Old stories and pictures
Of seasons gone by.


Yet new ones are forming
Each day that we live.
Scenes not yet painted;
Still being created.



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