A Poem by Poetic License

I can almost taste them,
The memories I no longer have.

I can just catch their jasmine scent,
Light and sweet aroma of honeysuckle.

The longer I search for them,
The more diaphanous they become.

They drift in puddles of mind matter,
To reach is to push them farther away.

I can so nearly hear the sounds, I think,
Tenor and pitch of voices, staccato speech.

I wonder about them, today,
These memories I cannot seem to find.

They were just yesterday, weren't they?
Just this year?  Last year?  Perhaps?

How strange to know of a past,
Without truly knowing the past.

How odd to gaze at passing human forms,
and wonder, did I know you?

Memory is our last great protector, they say,
I have to take their word for it, because I cannot remember.

© 2017 Poetic License

Author's Note

Poetic License
An effort to parse out inner turmoils on recent memory loss. I wonder, most days, if this is what Alzheimers will be like.

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I hope you don't have to find out, about alzheimers that is, I spend my days caring for people with alzheimers, I love them, but I hope I never join their ranks!

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

sweet memories,sometimes we just forget,

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on October 26, 2017
Last Updated on October 26, 2017


Poetic License
Poetic License


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