Gathering In the Missing
This room does not remember me.
Even when I pull the drapes
the bright sky
seems surprised by my alien eyes.
Some overlong nights
can unhinge you from time and place.
I have been ill,
the nightstand rattles with medications
and the bed is in recovery mode.
This walled-in dwelling
dwells apart from me,
it reluctantly makes way
for my substance
offering only a partial reality.
Who walks now
into my awakening space
as if they owned the place?
My familiarity is missing.
I am reflecting;
my thoughts flutter over a glass mind
as I piece together a history.
Perhaps I will explain myself later,
or by chance bump into my life,
meeting it again after lost years
astonished by how much this 'me'
has changed.
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