What Memories Will There Be At That Time
Memories are everywhere.
They eclipse today and strain
to obliterate tomorrow.
Ruminating, considering, perceiving,
believing in some things that
have little connection with others.
Why?
That one word question is
really what it boils down to.
In the end that will be the
first response of any
attempt to understand.
To understand what?
To understand how much?
Memories. The word, the concept,
over and over used like glue
to plaster so many
written efforts.
Duality is our monkey
on the back...our albatross.
And so the tepid water runs
like coal down the walls.
A minute goes by, and another
and still no present interferes.
We are strange as strangers.
Cold as fires blowing steam.
One day in the future
lying in a grave.
What memories will there be
at that time?
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