Pockets

By Andrew R. Duckworth

Little pockets of time,
Lonely and lengthy,
Living rent free
In the mind of me.

Those little pockets of time,
Sweet and bitter memories
Filling up the present
With eternity.

Little pockets of time,
Capsules of past
Built to last
But they fade away.

Little pockets of time
Fading away
With each passing day-
A cork popping
From a Champaign bottle-
A blink after a moment
Of reflection-
A step into the unknown
Without direction-
Little pockets of time
Fade away.