Boxes in closets

I used to listen to all those
Radio friendly love songs
Thinking about how everything seemed to be
Just right,
Moments were a postcard, 
A framed black and white portrait 
In an art boutique
On a quiet street
Or hung askew
On the walls of the bedrooms
Of young lovers...
Moments depicting 
The moment I was living in
The one I was dreaming in
Those words 
And their music
And the penned sense of hope
Were a part of my story...
Were telling my story.

I listen to them now
And it's all memories...
Dusty photo albums
In shoe boxes
In the dark
Alongside love letters 
And mementos 
From the summer fair
Or a Saturday night movie stub...
Maybe a quietly penned note 
Slipped into the warm pocket of a wool coat
During the first snowfall of the year.

These songs 
Are all nostalgic talk 
And thoughts about the way
Things used to be
The way shutters 
Clicked 
And 
Caught 
Happiness in a flash.

Fortune's wheel keeps turning
Dependably and relentlessly 
Rolling over itself, 
From the crest
Where you can live inside pleasure
Singing these tunes 
Of celebratory romance...
To the bottom
Of desperate memories
Clinging to long forgotten boxes
Lost deep in the recesses 
Of abandoned closets
Holding all that used to be
Known to me.