Thursday, August 29, 2019

No Image (Memory), Sonnet #473

An insomniac, I wake, remember
My life in vivid, unchosen eras,
(Not so much the fly but the amber),
All real, rediscovered chimeras.
Often it’s place that sets the revery,
What happened each day when I lived somewhere
Decades ago. Names and faces vary
From what they are today to what they were.
Like swimming, eyes open, under water,
A certain fearlessness is required —
At any time the vision can falter,
The eyes go blind or sting, become mirrored.
I can choose a time, but sometimes it’s blank,
Then my eyes water and I blink and blink.







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