Just Because I Don’t Remember

by John Herlihy

Just because I don’t remember,

Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

All the days of sweet September,

A voice calling, they do still beckon.

Therein be all the tempting mystery,

That lies patiently waiting to unfold.

Of the delicate fragility of memory,

That can break into pieces when cold.

Our memories as songbirds that fly,

Uplifted by air on feathered wings.

On their return we can never rely,

Heard only as notes on violin strings.

Into which heartland have they gone,

Singing to others their beloved song.

- - - -

Copyright © John Herlihy

Sunday 23 November 2025