That Hot Metal Iron

Though the memories of yesterday may still lay upon the heart like a hot metal iron upon a plaid skirt

To lift up the oppression of that hot metal iron and straighten through that crease, is to remove the crease away

As if it never existed

How simple and easy a thing to do, one may say

For I walk and glide, crease free

But, if I sit at an odd angle, I do not only get one crease, I accumulate many
A multitude of creases

So how so, so easy to iron one out?

The intention is what is the most important thing

For the intention of that hot metal iron was to remove that which was crooked and unsightly

But along the way, replications of that which has been removed tries to play game set and match

A constant reminder of the crease that once was, but was once removed

It won't last forever

For as much as the creases may grow, so much more can the hot metal iron fulfill it's role

Take off the plaid skirt and throw it in the wash

See how many more creases upon creases you seemingly seemed to have gained

How will I ever remove all this?

Simply switch on the hot metal iron, and begin again

Thankful we are for that hot metal iron, for morning by morning new creases we indeed do see

Bu the role of that hot metal iron remains the same

What A Difference A Day Makes

In the words of Stanley Adams, 'What a difference a day makes'. Or more fitting, a few years at that.

As you meet up with friends of old, it seems some have changed some, and others not so much. Long roads to travel to catch up with the miles that have been accumulated.

The nervous hellos and air kisses, the jovial laughter, a hundred words per minute to fill each other in on what happened since the one day, or a few years in many cases.

The fleeting look into another's eyes as one remembers the past and all that transpired, the eyes seemingly trying to communicate all is well, no need to feed on all that old stuff.

Years gone by, and years older, one on one looks unto one another as it seems things may actually be the same. Maybe there never really was much there at all to be able to tell of any change.

Hugs, and more hugs, bear hugs and more bear hugs.

'Watch it! I'm a lady don't you know. A nice shoulder pat or a warm hello rather than yeti meets delicate young lady thank you very much'.

The uncomfortable silence that speaks a multitude of days gone by. Silence that tries to recall memories of what once was, silence that is astounded that memories is all that is left.

A few added pounds here and there and then some, new lines that accompany the eyes when a smile is expressed. Words spoken full of accumulated knowledge and wisdom of experiences that gives an air of maturity to some.

A 'yes', 'please' and 'thank you' in response to all things keeps it safe and allows the arms to keep things at length.

Reminiscing, recapturing the past, knowing the present and hoping for the future.

Time for goodbyes. More hugs, and bear hugs. Things do certainly never change. Promises to meet again, to catch up at some point may remain just an echo in the night.

Certainly, what a difference a day makes - or a few years at that.