Written by Jacob Ibrag
So I sit by the family that celebrates life and all they’ve
collected. Throwing memories at each other and confirming details
someone may have missed. Talk of dreams and wishes they’ve achieved, and
maybe fell short of. The love they gave, the love they lost. The people they’ve met,
the people they’ve given up on. The story about the time a boy ran after the kid who
stole his five nickle water pistol. How he slipped on the curb and chipped his front
tooth. This wasn’t a baby, no this one was the reminder. A reminder to think
before beginning the leap. So I sit by the family that celebrates life and
all they’ve collected. Trading memories and forgotten dreams.
Photo by Karl Fredrickson
The Reluctant Poet 