In Lethe Submerging
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Remembering the details of life becomes more difficult as it all moves further away into the past. Writing about it and reminding yourself of long past events helps to retain those memories which are dear to you.
Trailing his hand in the river of time
Fishing for memories like tickling trout,
He tries to grasp the slippery glimpses
Of loves he has known, Spring and Summer,
In his youth when life was plausibly sweet.
If he could but cross time and realise
Again the triumphs and disasters, then
He could try seven more times, spider-like
To weave a web to capture his lost loves
Who resisted, who refused, who shunned him.
In the Summer sunlight, the golden flow
Of hair cascading over her shoulders,
Her face alight with joy in his presence,
Her slim form faint in his memory
As he summons her name without success.
Instead, a star burns bright in the darkness
And he hears again a beloved voice
Which, stilled too soon, fades away on the breeze.
Only the ancient dead retain the sound
And his life is washed clean in forgetting.
Memory replays misty scenes of
Faded gains and losses, all submerging
In Lethe's drowsy drift of confusion.
He trails his hand in the river of time,
Reaching for memories which slip away.
Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2019
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