Golden Memories (With That Being Said) Poem by Joe Fraccalvieri

When I was being cajoled,
I used to make people laugh,
with an intentional gaffe
At times I could make them cry…
I'd be hot or I'd be cold--
I was never half-and-half
when I'd tell the truth-- or lie

In my younger days, I was given praise
staying on top of the graph--
‘separating wheat from chaff'
But now I'm old and not so bold--
a cow, not a calf-- a flag at half-staff--
a poker hand ready to fold

I'm like the empty space
you'll see in the glass case
that says, ‘this item sold'

So let me be
content to stay-- day after day--
on loan to myself, while life is on hold
like an item, unwanted, that sits on a shelf
gathering dust and growing mold

I pray that someday
before being dead (suffice it to say) --
if I have my way-- or so I'm told--
I'll turn where I'm lead
back into gold