Memories Iii: Tapestries Iii of Iii

But like all memory, it fades as new ones are born The memories rise to the surface and sink to the depth of obscurity I remember all his nights of stories and that Orange little spark weaving tapestries of memory Deep into the night dispersing the wrath of summer storms into gentle rains Passing the time in the deep afternoon stretching on to midnight after dinner n nothing on the tube I see my father with trails of light around his face from another time another a place a different space a world away As that amber flares with each deep drag on a simple cigarette blazing into the night, relaxing in the moments between storms of my history and his memories Watching the lighting play far out to sea I watch stories woven as tapestries of light about a time in his history a place forever in my memory