from salt and pepper photographs
sprinkled on strange brick walls
my memories make up their own memories
filling the quiet of the never spoken
with familiar music
I watch my feet remember the rhythm
I feel my lips hum the tune
I sing along
from salt and pepper photographs
sprinkled on strange brick walls
my memories make up their own memories
filling the quiet of the never spoken
with familiar music
I watch my feet remember the rhythm
I feel my lips hum the tune
I sing along
THOUGHT PURGE 
Awesome. 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks 🙂🙂
LikeLike
You awakened a great memory from many years ago. My family had gathered at my brother’s house on the lake. We were all standing around enjoying the sunset with intentions of leaving, when my brother made a quip, and I immediately responded with a line from a very old song. Everyone laughed and then joined in with the rest of the song. My brother promptly built a bonfire and we stayed much longer than intended, singing, laughing, and having a good time. Thank you for that one,
Elizabeth
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad it brought a pleasant memory!!! 🙂
LikeLike
Memories making up their own memories… how beautiful!
LikeLike
Thank you Sreesha 🙂
LikeLike
It’s very true that our memories are like black and white snapshots of old. We choose which ones to color with emotions, sing-a-long to and save. Nicely written.
LikeLike
Thanks Olga.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like this, especially “my memories make up their own memories.” I believe that’s true.
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLike
Photos stir memories
LikeLike
Indeed! Thanks Sabio.
LikeLike
I really like this. It made me smile.
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
old black and white photos….salt and peppered through time and handling….so many memories they bring, and questions too.
LikeLike
They do!! Thanks Lillian.
LikeLike
Wonderful use of salt & pepper as old photos…a nostalgic poem written to a personal soundtrack, lovely.
LikeLike
Thanks Lynn 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Liking this and great opening line
LikeLike
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
I simply enjoyed this.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Carolin.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love “the quiet of the never spoken”. A beautiful poem 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks Ryan 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Simply lovely. 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you 🙂
LikeLike
I liked this! I took it to be about how we insert our own narrative and interpretations into the art that we see/read. Very nice!
LikeLike
Thank you.. we do that too, don’t we!
LikeLike
There’s nothing like those old black and white photos. Mine aren’t digitized. They[re ancient. It’s a nice way to remind yourself of how much sense the world used to make. Thanks thot
LikeLike
That’s true.. I have a bunch stuck in albums that refuse to be digitized…. much like some stubborn memories! Thanks Walter!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I scanned a bunch of old slides for my brother’s kids when he died
LikeLike
That’s a beautiful gesture..
LikeLike
Interesting. The body remembers more than we realise sometimes.
LikeLike
Absolutely… or just embellishes and replaces as it goes along. Thanks so much Sarah.
LikeLike
This is soo beautifully wistful!❤️ Especially love; “my memories make up their own memories filling the quiet of the never spoken with familiar music,” Gorgeous write!❤️
LikeLike
Thanks Sanaa 🙂
LikeLike
I love how the memories come back in the form of a song… that’s perfect.
LikeLike
Thanks Bjorn!
LikeLike
I really enjoyed this, it had a memory and a whimsical sadness. You are right the feet remember the rhythm even when the mind forgets the tune.
LikeLike
Thanks Alison. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like this. Memories are slippery things. Often they don’t exist except in the heads of other memories. We remember what never happened. Love that last image.
LikeLike
Absolutely.. thanks so much Jane!
LikeLike
Pleasure 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Familiar music brings back those memories, though it may be made up ~ Love the images of those photographs ~
LikeLike
True, thanks Grace.
LikeLike
The quiet of the never spoken – that line blew me away!
LikeLike
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike
I really like this:
“my memories make up their own memories
filling the quiet of the never spoken
with familiar music”
LikeLike
Thanks Estella 🙂
LikeLike
“my memories make up their own memories.” That’s so true, how we adapt reality into what works for us, trying to hold on to what delights and erase what pains.
LikeLike
Exactly… we keep replacing memories, overwriting them until they become like well worn slippers!! Thanks so much Victoria.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I enjoyed following the links of connotations through your Quadrille and the idea of ‘salt and pepper photographs /sprinkled on strange brick walls’. Never stop singing along!
LikeLike
🙂 Thanks Kim.
LikeLiked by 1 person
…”my memories make up their own memories” is an intriguing line. Beautiful write!
LikeLike
Thanks so much Beverly.
LikeLike
This fits the prompt well. Also the intent behind the prompt. All without naming the tune(s).
LikeLike
Thanks Charley.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Singing along to the tune of life, sometimes singing is all one can do. Good stuff, have a nice week!
LikeLike
Thanks so much… and yes, sometimes it is all one can do!
LikeLike
The black and white in old photographs are like salt and pepper. My memories also bring back songs. Sometimes I even go to YouTube to hear them again.
LikeLike
Especially when I can’t remember most of it..then I have to youtube it just to get it out of my head!!!
LikeLike