All forgotten words and thoughts,
smiles and cries and landscape views
are washed away by waterfalls of time
and floating to the dark sea of oblivion.

They shall never return to me, but maybe
some might rain on land and later drip
from the tap that is my memory,
stream over me when I shower, bathe.

And there you’ll be: I wash my hands
and see your face, or drink a glass
and find a moment in a café long ago, all
will come back to me. I’ll remember you by water.


Comments on: "Memory" (5)

  1. It’s funny how simple everyday things can bring a person to mind. You developed the water image really well, here, Ina. I find it a very satisfying poem. 🙂

  2. washed over and through me, oceans of feeling and sad happiness…

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