Loss of …
… something just beyond my fingertips
that I can’t quite remember
By the time I remembered your name,
I had forgotten your face.
Then I couldn’t recall why
I wanted to talk to you.
I trace dark landmarks
on the back of scarred hands:
blood maps,
unremembered encounters,
dust covered photographs,
grey, grim, not belonging in any album.
At night I cruise among islands,
emerald green against sapphire seas.
Why did I never visit so many places?
Golden sand trickles through
night’s hour glass as stars, planets
dance in Platonic skies.
My memory fails.
I wake each morning
unaware of where I have been.
I track the sails of drifting ships,
white moths.
I think I have caught
them in overnight traps,
but they fly away each morning
in dawn’s forgiving light.
I give chase with pen and paper,
fine butterfly nets for wild thoughts
waiting to be caught,
then tamed.
Keep writing and thinking Roger you are a fine mind, plus you are a nice guy.
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Thank you, Mr. Cake. Your comments are much appreciated. It’s funny how Clare and I sit at the table, struggling to find le mot juste. We grin at each other and mumble, ‘you know …’ the suddenly the right word pops out, like a genie from a magic bottle. We often say it together, like rabanos for radishes I couldn’t remember what it was in Spanish).
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The right word is always hard to find…I wish I could bottle that talent and make a fortune.
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Wonnderful poem as reminding some memories in milky way.dear roger!!where are you.i remember you almost every day.hope-hope you are fine.
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Hi Aruna: I am indeed fine. I lost my blog page, then recovered it. Now I am back. So glad to be back online. Writing up a storm and lots of new ideas! Good to see you here. Thanks for dropping by.
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I am very much happy to see you on my site.you are most welcome forever.i have missed you since one and half years.dear moor!!
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I find this beautiful, sad, wistful…
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Thanks, Janice. It’s old age partly, and the fact that so many things go missing. Memories, words, flashbacks that come and go, telephone numbers, people’s faces. Someone kept smiling at me in the supermarket yesterday and I didn’t know who they were! I find that I am losing my languages. I bought radishes in the supermarket, but couldn’t remember what a radish was in Spanish. I couldn’t remember eating them in Spain. I looked the word up in the dictionary: rabano. Then I remembered Noche de Rabanos, and carving radishes in Oaxaca, Mexico. My radishes / rabanos had noting to do with Spain. Now I wander round the kitchen muttering rabanos, rabanos, every time I see one.
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Muttering ‘rabanos, rabonos’ sounds amusing…(I can fully see myself doing that)…memory can be creative, combining situations with new places…and the more we experience and know, the more there is to forget…unnerving when forgetting is a prevalent experience…hoping you are OK.
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Everything good. Just donated 24 boxes of books to the local university library. Lots of empty shelves here now. Felt sad at first (more tan 100 boxes ago) but feeling better now. Like an albatross removed from the neck … or chain of half ton radishes.
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That’s a major accomplishment and generous donation (of books and effort). What a relief that must feel after the uneasy feeling…will clear the air too (radishes do smell 😉
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Hot here. 31C and higher on the humidex. Writing away and thinking.
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Hot and humid here too. Hoping for more rain.
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Rain? What’s that? Send me a picture!
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It’s those little dribbles we get every now and again after huge thunderclaps 🙂
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The clouds are building here. We seem to get sprinkles of rain in selected and limited areas. The woods in Mactaquac by the Beaver Pond were puddled the other day, but we had neither seen nor heard a raindrop fall.
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