lasting memories

Photo by Quino Al on Unsplash

so many people talk
about their firsts.

wax poetic about
the moment that
started everything else.

but the lasts are oft ignored.

not many remember the
last time they visited
a favourite restaurant,
before it shut its doors forever.

not many remember the
last time they hugged a friend,
before time and distance
turned fissure into chasm.

with awareness of lasts
comes a sense of urgency.

a need to make the most
of each moment.

perhaps it would be better
not knowing what the end is.
because knowledge sends
clouds of fear, of indecision.

and wanting to make the moment
perfect inherently ruins
every possibility of perfection.

a year of goodbyes awaits me.

every month a fresh wave
of painful longing for this
life i am leaving behind.

it is strange to count
events in lasts.

when it seems just yesterday
that i entered with an eternity
of five years ahead.

but i am sure everyone
must feel that way.

leaving home away from home
is a type of yearning
for a place i have no reason
to return to.

how do i make a case for
each square foot of memory
packed into the bricks?

the last time i walk
out of these gates,
i want to remember
the colour of the sky.