OctPoWriMo 16

Maybe just the slightest edge of a memory
You only remember as a story you were told
Even though you were there as it was lived
And spoke the repeatable words for all to hear
Would be lost if not for the speaking
Here now on the occasion of so many gathered
Wanting to hear for the remembering
Of moments lived that might be lost
Though they could never be lost
They could only be held
Above our heads as these umbrellas
Slowly give way to walking as they must
Even if just one in front of the other
As if saying the same thing twice
Each story takes a lifetime to recollect
And we are not always there for the telling
Though someone who loves us very much is listening