Monday 15 August 2022

The Memory Window

All that colour, perhaps it's green
 Memories of a me I once was  
I can't remember.  
Those small things, are they petals?  
But they're green, so no, something else  
Leaves me confused  
About where I am,
What is this place? 
And what lies between me and there? 
I see nothing, only someone's reflection.  
Is that me?  
I raise my hand, something solid  
Stops me knowing 
I'm not seeing the wood for the trees.
previously published on Kalanopia and originally written in response to a photo of an older woman looking at her reflection in a window

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