There is a corner in all our lives we sometime bring down a fence and get caught in that corner of our selves.
A corner to stack what we want to save and show some day.
Things we do not want to slip away.
My corner is full slam up to the top.
Look at the years we let slip by and not a thing have we saved,
Nothing to recall, Our memories did not get caught in that corner,
Some are gone for ever. Our first memory? Do you recall?
I don't think so. Oh yes I do. It was love of family. Of where I am. The touch of a hand.
The love of that certain man.
My corner will never be full.

by Kathleen H. Rios

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