Slowly Going Flat

What,
in the day's last light,
will you remember,
take with you?
Will it be the people you have known,
the faces you have touched,
the hearts you have broken
-- or mended...

Or will it be
the adventures of your youth,
the risks you took
and the brushes with greatness,
the crushes and the dreams
that now sit tucked up in your attic
or curled in your driveway
slowly
going
flat?

This poem was written for Carry on Tuesday, whose prompt this week is the opening words from Salman Rushdie's novel, The Enchantress of Florence: "In the day's last light..."

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