Memories by Monica Swanton

I trace my fingers along the wrinkled leather
and I'm instantly hit with a rush of nostalgia.

There's the pink nail polish splatter from my cousin's sleepover party.
And the cherry soda stain from my last birthday.
That's the thick streak of Sharpie from a recent art project.
And the buttery popcorn pieces from last Friday's movie night.
There's the pen mark from my biology studying session,
I suppose that was one too many Punnett squares...
This is the dried wax from the vanilla christamss candle.
Here are the scratches from the claes of our new puppy...
That's the sticky smudge of barbecue sauce from when my brother
was too lazy to get the paper towels.

I grab a pillow and smll the fresh Febreeze,
This is the pillow I used
to cover my eyes when we watched Friday the 13th.
Here's the blanket I found wrapped around me
when I woke up the following morning.

I listen to the echoes of laughter and conversation
That make me relive good times and sad times.
This is where I was when I fought out
The sad news about Grandma.
And the good news about Aunt Mildred.

Home to my lost cell phone for many days.
Where the winner of Scrabble was chosen countless times.

Here, I spent most of
My sick days,
Lazy Saturdays,
Sweltering summers,
And Super Bowl Sundays.

Some people look at this couch and see
Nothing more than a sorry looking sofa
With saggy cushions and lumpy pillows
And a block of wood propped under the right leg
But I,
I look at this couch and see my memories.
And every time I flop down onto the soft cushions,
I relive old memories and make new ones.