Nostalgia

Memory, to me, is a series of images, jagged bits of sound, and scents that jack-in-box out when least expected. I’m amazed when people talk about memories like they’re movies. My mother died 14 years ago today. I’d love to have memory-movies of her. I miss her something fierce.

Poem: Anemoia

Anemoia

I meet you in places
neither of us knew
you look happy but tired
this life after death beyond
memory suits you
I see you’re busy busy
me I’m doing ok
just a bit tired myself
pushing myself I guess
got things I want to do
before it’s too late you know
yes I’ll take better care
love you
I miss you too

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