I preface my offering for this week’s A – Z Challenge by saying that I am a rare and often indifferent poet. Why I thought to try verse is a puzzlement even to myself. Caveats done. No apologies, no excuses. (And no titles.)
After the end of sorrow comes remembering
Before the first joy comes forgetting.
Caught between lightning and fireflies
Dancing across the skin
Every moment trembles.
Flashes of sweet damask rose
Greet then abandon like campaign
Handshakes at the country fair,
Insouciant visitors from a past when
Jacks clattered across the floor.
Kaddish sung in childhood games.
Language is lost, then found,
Manifestations of days and
One into another.
Pick up a
Quill dripping with Lethe’s ink,
Reclaiming before each papered stroke
Senses: tickled smell and taste,
Touch, sight, and sound;
Ubiquitous memories all, before they
Vanish and the
World is stripped clean to the bone.
Xebecs set their sails across forgotten