For Sloan

Memories spark my keyboard, bringing days of flat noses and scrapbooks with pressed roses

So long ago, so far away my Lord! We drove two-hundred-dollar cars, yet tried dressing tight in the bars

Try and make an impression, give it a shot, she looks pretty don’t you think, why don’t you buy her another drink

Hope she ain’t looking to close in the lot, that junker don’t

Next day we laughed about it shooting darts, enjoy the sun on the flat rocks at Lannon, sometimes we’d see pretty girls tanning

Now all these years later I dream pieces and parts, I see us

Drunken college boys trying to act like men, somewhere we weren’t even allowed, sunshine found us passing through a bewildered crowd

Only in my mind do I go back there again, landscapes change but what remains, friends and love through life’s joys and pains

Memories spark my keyboard, flood my cortex with scenes, concert t shirt and tight blue jeans

And once again I’m left floored, all the players played

But it’s a tale that I don’t mind telling, be they good or

After all the cheers and yelling, and those memories playing in my mind, dreaming on to see what else I find

Tim Windisch

05/23/2024