shiny objects

when I was really small I’d collect gems, 
little trinkets & other shiny objects that I’d find.

I remember being bewildered
with just an oddly shaped rock
or crooked blue bird feather.

I’d stroll around for hours-
eternities even
stuck in joyful fixation. 

man, it makes me wonder.. 

when is it that curiosity becomes a floating phantom? 

when exactly does all the whimsy get ironed out? 

I mean, is it  flattened with the weight of time? 

or do you think it’s possible that life is just the act fading amidst nostalgic sigh? 


7 thoughts on “shiny objects

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