They say, memories slip away
Through the long tunnel of time
Details fuse in a fog, ungraspable
Yet sometimes, why do patches unlock appearing in cruel clarity?
The whiff of a lost lover, somewhere in a crowd.
Calmness of a landscape that once pierced through your being.
The warmth in a stranger’s eyes when the conversation is long gone.
Or when you are 12 once again, and learned about mockery at school
The time you stopped to breathe in the freedom you knew would be soon gone
Or the day you saw traces of the girl your mother once was, confirming your own mortality
Why sometimes, does the fog clear, through an endless night,
To reveal this in cruel clarity.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s