27 September 2015


Here in a faded photograph
a memory stirred of a time that's past
wrapped in the comfort of the mist
invisible to the human eye
a heavy sigh
I was in my prime back then
waiting behind the trees
I feasted on the creme De la creme
so quick to beg too late to scream
it was my hunting ground
it's where I fell in love
with a sheep
I remember
he took this photograph
said it was a memory I should keep
now he's gone
was almost forgotten
senility keeps erasing parts of me
leaving behind an echo of a memory
it all became clear
here in a faded photograph

Copyright © 2015 Patrick B Vince 


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