Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the
notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we
loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family
jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything
seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy, before
Before we
could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland.
There
they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds,
the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled,
waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for
some small, intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An
echo from the past when, innocent
We looked upon the present with
delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the
loneliness of night.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
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