memory’s sun

they’d
promised
…..my
memory’s sun
would never set
deftly dispensing
measured
panaceas… steps

gullibility intact
I gingerly move head
in yogic motions
waiting for swarms
of memories to Houdini
all synapses
firing
concurrently

fingers crossed
limpid eyes …uncrossed
I daily await
personal revelations
enchanting treasure maps
haloing head….secretly
fearing….am I in fact waiting
for Godot ..having been had…

Painting: Misty Morning by Alfred Sisley

 

Comments

Tell us your thoughts