Scenes of a previous time:
I wish they could be trapped, set in worded sequence
with adjectives and adverbs
painting in colors of action and feelings,
captured silences,
like a best selling novel precisely bound.
But memories come in jumps and spurts,
sometimes foggy, fuzzy gray with fragments that splinter
and make one wonder, “Was it like this . . . or that?”
They come like pictures in an album . . .
no . . . more like clutter in boxes here and there,
disjointed, elusive names, muddled dates,
waiting to be recognized, sorted and relived.
Or a flower, a song, a smell, a phrase
may stir memory of a previous time
hung in the cobwebs of our bygone days.
Scenes play a tantalizing game of
hide-and-seek in the dusty, musty corridors of my attic.
Memories
– Viola Pearl Diener Stahl
