Inspired by talking to Kasia, a friend of mine, about the subject of experiences and memories. I often find the quality of my memory a little lacking. I value the 'now' considerably, because the second it turns into 'then', it begins devaluing until it's just a fact listed in my head.
I'm not sure if I've already written something like that or not, but I don't think I have.
cold dust has settled
upon the stone floor
hidden from sun's light
memories rest
I sift through that debris
looking for anything
reflections appear in the shards
and vanish as I move them
the dust seeps through my fingers
and clouds form again
billowing, intangible, surreal
women and men
moments and places
brief images and sensations
moved by unknown winds
as quickly as they appeared
these shadow puppets fade away
and the dust settles again
still and quiet
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