Where Do All The Memories Go?

• Serena Hoffman, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2022

Where there was something, now there is nothing
No more time to be spent
No more money to be lent
An empty home, left all alone
It’s almost as sad, as a well-used-backyard,
Children growing old
A rusty Swing Set
How many stories does it hold?
Where do all these precious memories fall?
Are they kept in the floors, the clothing, the walls?
No. Its held in the heads, the hearts, shining bright and gold
The heads, the hearts they stay the same as we grow old
And in that sense, while the emptiness may feel so cold
It will all be filled, with all the memories we hold
A Swing Set now peeled, rusty and old, covered in red, blue and a vibrant gold
Catch memories, hold them close, the old house will be remembered by ghosts