Remembrance of…

At my age

every day

of the year

is an anniversary

of something

or other, but

mostly I no longer

remember of what.

Just as well,

in many cases,

sad loss in others,

but I don’t

get to decide

which will come

back to me

with the sound

of wind in the

chimney, the taste

of a cake, the smell

of wood smoke,

the light of

a full moon,

the touch of silk.

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