Memories lost

A pastel smudge of colour
Paints a watered iris-eye,
An echo
Of a something almost lost;
Half remembered.
What do you remember, eye?
What have you seen,
Eye?
A pupil of a life
Arduous and long, now
Lies in forgotten recesses
Of a dusty mind’s shelf.
And when I speak to you
You hear me; do you listen,
Though?
And when you speak to me,
I hear you, too.
But am I listening?
A cyclical repetition
To enrage a saddened shrine to
Age and Me; I am saddened too.
And My memories are all that remain now.
For yours, I cannot find anymore.
A sudden flash illuminates your
Loch-like expanse
What are you recalling now,
Eye?
Excitement flushes through
Me, a chance of you,
And we smile for a while
Before the vinyl scratch
Screams out its domination
Once more.
And the eye is again
As a pastel, a dim-washed
Colour, nothing more
Again.

 

Written as a memory for someone who lost theirs …

©Davey Northcott March 2014

If you enjoyed this, check out my ebook: ‘The Path Through the Eye of Another’

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