I wander your driveway, gazing at your assorted memories of times past, or perhaps times not so past. I hold your history and consider its worth. Will it benefit my life? Do I see the same beauty in it that you must have seen at one time? Or is this, perchance, an unappreciated gift from last Christmas? Maybe a reminder of a trip that you would rather forget with a lover that you would rather still have? I wander your driveway and ponder the possibility that you might not even consider the fact that I hold in my hands a piece of yourself.