carry all

The past is never far away when you carry it with you

like the mountains of Colorado

or the smell of my grandfather's desk

or holding my best friend's daughters for the first time

or bowing while receiving my degree

or playing man hunt (three versions)

or our first kiss at 12th Avenue and Sherman Street

or realizing I can play a "boys' sports"

or being swung by my parents' hands while walking through a parking lot

or making up "It happened on Alpine Place"

or buying my first car and feeling like a "real" adult

or dancing to mad, crazy industrial beats 'till 4 a.m.

and each day is an opportunity to create more wondrous "past" to carry in my satchel