Memories
About the past do I reminisce long,
How memories silently on us creep,
Appearing, too, in our dreams when we sleep.
Fantasies of a time we were more strong,
Sometimes our memories can be quite wrong,
Particularly when the years do steep,
They pile up in an inaccurate heap,
For instance, what colour was my sarong
At the time? Pondering this, feeling wry,
Dress item of so long ago; a crop
top too, I lost, and memories defy
How they wore. These visions I'll need to drop
As I look up at our own present sky,
And all the nostalgia will have to stop.