Are we what we remember, or the sum of what is remembered?
I take the brittle pages from the closet shelf, compelled by shadows to discover the life that has passed. Sere and dull, snapshot windows-- suspending time-- open my mind to moments grown thin within the abyss of time. Buried memories swarm the present, shaking off the dust and silence, each one a residue of soul lingering like phantoms unwilling to rest.
Have I summoned them? Am I one of them? Why do I ask when I'm sure I don't want to know?
Memories can bring more than just the past when they come. Unfortunately, they tend to walk hand-in-hand with the reality of our o-so-short existence. I love the ending you have chosen for this piece. Just like life, your left with so many unanswered questions. Best wishes.
a lot can understand and no the feelings expressed here
with this, maybe these question can be anwsered, with the blowing off of more dust...........very well crafted
touching as well
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M.Rose
with this, maybe these question can be anwsered, with the blowing off of more dust...........very well crafted
touching as well
This poem is simply written, yet expresses a world. Well done, Lee.
Judith
or those of what we wanted to remember.
Well-done!
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)