A Time When I Didn’t Remember

A Time When I Didn’t  Remember

If I allow myself to think

Then I am less than good or ok

And all I have is time

As it ticks and tocks

But what good does it do

To wallow in the hollow?

To drown in swollen rivers?

To ride the raging torrent?

And end up far from home?

I grasp at the memory

Of a time when I didn’t remember.

A time when my senses were alive

To the magic of singing nightingales

Or the sway of the raucous wheat

So my feet keep on pounding

Through the thickening sludge

And I barricade myself tightly

From the deafening chatter

And maybe one day those words

Those piercing, piercing words

Will fly away on the breeze

And my memories no longer burn.