Memory

It may be a reach, but I think combining a photograph of an abandoned structure with a poem about a painful memory makes sense. A distant memory becomes tarnished by age, diminished by the present, a shadow of its former self, but yet still visible. Just like an old abandoned home.

Memory is a careless thing;

I don’t recall, but I do, and

I regret it. It never seems

To be the right time or the right

Place. Is that what really happened?

I remember something different.

I tried to forget, to forget

You, to forget us. But there is

Always a trigger that comes in

The form of a photograph, a

Movie scene, a song that we once

Loved. I can be anywhere and then

In an instant, I am back there.

The video of my mind hits rewind,

and there we are, in the latest

version of a story that never

seems to end, although it did,

Many years ago.