just like the movies

every movie
ends the same

fade to black
roll credits

people file out
of the theater
thinking about
the experience

every life
ends the same

fade to black
roll credits

people file out
of the funeral home
thinking about
the experience

what matters
are the memories
of the life lived

(D James)

these are the days

I remember when
you had to buy tokens
to ride the subway

and phone calls
were a dime
if you could find
a pay phone that worked

I remember when cabs
wouldn’t leave Manhattan
for the other boroughs
and street lights
were few

I remember when
computers were so big
they had rooms
of their own
and no one
had one at home

I remember when
you had to make the bank
by 3 pm
and never missed
a Friday visit to the teller
or you were without cash
all weekend
and people wrote checks
bought stamps
and mailed their bills

and if this
were written then
I wouldn’t be able
to share it with you

(D James)

over before you know it

where does it
go
the time

seems like it
used to crawl

now I lose
track
of the days

and memories
are like stories
someone once told

I’m not even
certain
I’ve not written

this poem
before

(D James)

Were things really easier or do we just remember them that way?

In the good
old days
when we were drunk
the world
moved slower
as if underwater

Now time
lurches forward
can’t seem to stop
the flood of years
rushing past

Let’s get drunk
one more time
drown ourselves
in memories of
days gone by

(D. James)