tagNon-Erotic PoetryMemory Recedes

Memory Recedes

byLauren Hynde©

It's funny what you don't recall.
My mother tells me of summers of old,
of friends and fun and four-year-old lovers.
Why have I forgotten who I was as a child?
Why isn't there any resemblance
between my own two selves?
The child I once was lives or has died?
Am I another?
Did another arrive to live within me?
Were there in me several successive souls
or am I just a single inconstant being?
"You had so much fun"
my mother tells me,
smiling,
before memory recedes.

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byLauren Hynde© 0 comments/ 5076 views/ 0 favorites

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