That Book by Anonymous

“Take down this book and slowly read,” — W.B.Yeats

That book, the one on the wall,
the book that has recorded my life
with pictures and words, capturing memories.

That book, the one on the wall,
with pictures of me as a baby,
capturing my smiles and also my confusion.

My parents snapped picture after picture
of my first steps, and my first day of preschool.
They snapped picture after picture of my 5th grade graduation.
Picture after picture, always recording my life.

That book, the one on the wall,
is also filled with words.
Words describing who I am, and who I was,
recording the largest changes,
and the smallest.

The pictures and words that fill that book
cannot be replaced.

Because when I’m old and grey,
those pictures will be part of my lifeline to the past.

When I’m old and grey, the pictures and words
will help remind me of the memories I have made,
and the life I have lived.

When I’m old and grey,
I’ll be flipping through the pages, looking at the pictures,
reading the words.
Thinking about my life, recorded in a photo album.
Thinking about my life, recorded in a photo album, day after day.

That book, the one on the wall, is irreplaceable.

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