Time and the river wait for noone. Photos © Tamara Beck.
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 always,
Just sometimes; glory is not mine to strut or savor,
Not always, just sometimes, Who were you? Who was I?
We will never be this young again
We always knew that, but didn’t
Believe it, until one day, looking
At pictures of how we were, when
We were that young, smiling photos,
The happiness blended with youth,
We had to confess that time had
Passed, happily and with the stealth
Of time slipping by, unnoticed and
Quieter than the images of those young
Happy people looking back at us
Opaque or transparent? …Lest I Forget
Some six months ago, I shut down one of my many blogs,
and transferred much of its content to this one. I fully intended to put new content here and leave the Observations: Lest I Forget site to history. …Lest I Forget
Truth is, I have a lot about which I wish to opine, and enjoy doing so in different
fora and diverse platforms. So is being revived today, with fresh content all its own. Observations: Lest I Forget
Daily Prompt: Murmuration
Photo © Tamara Beck.
Spring announces its arrival in whispers with an appearance of tulip buds and
flocks of starlings.
Setting the clock back an hour for a species daylight saving is just icing on spring’s cake.
As for the time, let me
At 9 o’clock that’s really 10 o’clock, that is really 9 o’clock, I contemplate the nature of time.
As midnight strikes somewhere on
December 31st, a distant time from now, this spring time about to be, the New Year cascades in ever echoing murmurs around the globe.
When and where is it truly 12 o’clock, the middle of the night? We cannot seem to get a fix on the
time today, March 12th, when we have set our clocks back. 10 a.m. is an artifice today.
time relative, or can it be fixed? Can being late be an alternate fact?
Do these constructs of time
Strike you as silly like
They do me? Today is
Spring, because it’s March
21st but the 19th, that was
Still winter and come June
Summer will begin and the
Whole universe is expected
To tow the line, obey the
Law of the seasons in a timely
Manner, flowers are to bloom
And leaves to fall, cold winds
To blow and rains to pound
The hard earth, each in
Their turn, each in their time
© Tamara Beck