Sometimes,
to the unlit corners of our minds,
we traverse back in time.
Resting there, we find bygone days of earlier clock,
Now, just vague mentations, of things bleached by time.
What were embers, now appear as ash,
and we can recall each gofer match spent,
trying to rekindle wet wood.
Leaving us to delve on how things might have been,
had we journeyed down that road not chosen.
Categories:
mentations, emotions, fantasy, people, places,
Form: Narrative