I will not

I will not lie and suggest it doesn’t shock Change is so subtle that it goes almost Unnoticed in the familiar, your  body to Which I am as accustomed as to my own Moves around me, its faultlines evident and Marked just as the wrinkles that drag on Mine mock my mortality so that it…

Quiet and peaceful

Sitting as old men do Holding court with Memories, sharing both Wisdom and nonsense From a life fully lived Yet far from complete Never accepting blame or Regrets, but sitting in Tranquility, peaceful Still yet like the river with An undercurrent, there is News mixing with opinions All that need to be expressed And heard….

Do you remember this?

I have expunged so much and so many from my recollection When they come creeping in, it’s on ghost feet Sometimes I welcome the newly remembered Sometimes I dread the associations they bring me Some memories amuse, others confuse, some Simply disabuse me of my moral superiority, I Have not served truth or justice, not…

Tributaries

It seems simple (or simplistic) to assume that mimicking another’s easily recognizable quirks is of course a mockery. It is likely, or at least possible, that the parody is a tribute. High Anxiety, homage or spoof? The send-ups of Psycho, The Birds, Vertigo, are all over the top, of course. Mel Brooks is clearly piling on the Alfred…

Revival

Some six months ago, I shut down one of my many blogs, Observations: Lest I Forget  and transferred much of its content to this one. I fully intended to put new content here and leave the …Lest I Forget site to history. Truth is, I have a lot about which I wish to opine, and…

Mirror image

Mirrors, like memory, both reflect and distort The image fuzzy or clear, made larger or smaller As we do in remembering slights and complements In complimenting our past, we look as thtough a Glass at what was or might have been equally both Reflected and distorted, sometimes larger, sometimes Smaller, behind us and ahead, never…

Language, language!

Lingua franca There are times I am gripped by what feels like a lingual fantasy. I can hear the words of a proverb in what was once my native, or at least first, language in my head, but I cannot form them. I am unable to repeat them even though they are on the tip of my…

Orchards and chameleons

My mother’s aunt had an orange orchard and grapefruit Groves, and a protective Great Dane named Bina to watch Over all. Chameleons sat on stone walls around her property, Pretending invisibility and mimicking the rocky fences. When we visited, Bina and the chameleons, welcomed us To the quiet farmland, perched neatly on a hillside, Fragrant…

Memory

I envy you, remembering The addresses of your childhood I remember nothing, not even Grudges or the names of  Friends and neighbors If memory is all we have I have only you and our years Together, I remember all that Every touch, every tender moment Memories like that are my blessing My consolation for all…