When I’m hit with a blast from the past,
An urge for something to be recalled,
I don’t set off to prod awake
Its phantom, maybe sleeping fast,
To jolt it up with: I remember!
No, not if that can be forestalled.
I give the shade a gentle shake,
Just not enough to rouse it yet,
And pause: If it seems best to forget,
I let it slumber.
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Author:
pWc (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 12th, 2024 08:27
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is sister to the one I posted two weeks ago, "A Time to Walk". Both use a form borrowed from Robert Frost in his "A Time to Talk".
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
A wonderful write using anthropomorphism and great images loved it
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