Afterglow: A Poem

"Ah, but these are dangerous waters", said she, "Now you go hunting in the savage lands of memory. Fraught with risk, yes - but oh, so loved! What if you shot something precious? Is it not better to forget?"

Sagely said I, "The death of a memory, however beloved, is but another thing to remember..."

Apropos of absolutely nothing then, from a Lost Archive, the poem. First written and blogged on 21 August 2006. Now, refined. Or so I like to think...


Afterglow

I marvel often,
At those uncertain times

When discovery fades to the mundane
And the Nobel gathers dust;
Of pretensions to knowledge,
Moderated

When the lights come back on
And dimly the credits roll;
Of those wondrous worlds beyond
Extinguished

When the Colloseum roars
And the mighty warrior bows;
Of that lethal demigod
Humbled

When the fighting is done
And the body count appalls;
Of the tingle of victory
Dampened

When the breathless kiss is broken
And cruel words are spoken
Of flutters in the heart
Forgotten

Reality as a sieve
And the sands of my dreams
Perchance clinging
Mostly lost

That twinkle of promise
And purple afterglow
Memories from the future
Of impossibilities, unrealized

Reality blankets me, anew
Those few strands that caught a dream

And the deep, dark spaces
Where things fall through...