Silent fishermen
Pelicans, like brown clad monks
travel single file.

When Mother's on the telephone
she tends to leave us
on our own.
Distractions she will not permit.
Her phone call has no end to it.

Creepers galore
skilleep through my store
Skittery Sklints on display
warm themselves on sunny shelves
while Splatterkeys spell HOORAY!

Splendid Spufonies
share macaronis with customers waiting to pay
for Marshmallow Mooblies
to polish their shoeblies
and sleep in their socks all day.

I was not the kind of person who remembered details
Summer nothings, like who gave the first rose to whom
or Winter's trivia
did I kiss you or did you kiss me
and did the mistletoe have anything to do with it?

What I clearly recall
is your face the day you left me
I've filled pages with regret
over your hurts and my own

Turns out I'm the kind of person who starts to remember
once the roses and the kisses
are gone.