Our Box of Haunting Memories

Our box lies temptingly there.
No, I can't.
Haunting memories will return.
Oh, I must.
Those browning photographs.
Just this once.
The thoughtful greeting cards.
Here I go.
Beautiful images come to life.
There she is.
She was sitting by the fountain.
By my side.
Reflections of her moonlit face.
Oh, so sweet.
Birthdays, Christmases, Valentines.
My heart stops.
Tears were in her lovely eyes.
I awake.
Haunting memories in my mind.
She is gone.

by John E. Tran