What are we but stories
fuzzy book of remembering,
feelings and echoes.
Hear it?
You turn its pages vacantly, then
place it down and rush out;
a voice of now is calling.
A page falls out
as your body’s whirlwind
makes a memory
glide out of context
softly onto
today
fuzzy book of remembering,
feelings and echoes.
Hear it?
You turn its pages vacantly, then
place it down and rush out;
a voice of now is calling.
A page falls out
as your body’s whirlwind
makes a memory
glide out of context
softly onto
today
2 comments:
Memories mulch into a fine compost enriching life's experience. I like this. Title?
Still thinking of a title.
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