“Object permanence is the understanding that objects continue to exist even when they cannot be perceived (seen, heard, touched, smelled or sensed in any way). … According to this view, it is through touching and handling objects that infants develop object permanence.” Wikipedia
They closed the Sears in Burlington.
The building still remains.
I imagine there are still echoes there
of tickets printing
and customers complaining
and children calling for their mothers
where they last saw them
in the lingerie department.
I have notebooks filled with paragraphs
I’ll never read again.
I’ve loved people
I’ll never see again.
Sometimes it all seems pointless
until I remember how much I liked wearing
that flannel shirt
I bought three winters ago
when the lights were still on
and the doors still opened
around ten ‘o clock each morning.
I still have that shirt.
I remember a few of the things I wrote
and the some of the intense conversations I had.
I remember how we sat in the driveway
waiting for the song to end
before shutting down the engine.
I remember being small
and draped across my mother’s lap
as she gently scratched my back.
I remember more than a few first kisses
and a handful of last ones too.
No matter how much things fade,
some of them feel like forever
and I never mind the echoes.