“Candles” by Marjorie Masel
why remember
what can’t be remembered
a day in those long ago forties
a time and a place
indescribably different
small piece of a world
that no longer exists
save in minds of the
dullest historians
nothing about it
remotely familiar
to anyone still in full vigor
a day unremarkably marked
by a sunrise and sunset
that only the now dear departed
would ever have witnessed
a day disappeared
into myriad wisps
of gray room-darkened smokerise
from too many candles
politely blown out by
the bearded old breath
of a tired forgettable life
From my book Onionskin
Well, if it is your birthday, hope it’s a happy one, and if not, nice poem my friend, enjoyed this…aging sucks,,pardon my French …😊🎂
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it is (was) – your kind words are much appreciated – French is one of my favorite languages
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Details may be hazy….foggy…faded….but the reality is still there. Cheers!
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Ah, we have this at least in common: we’re both older than we can remember! Happy Birthday, my poet`friend . . . Strength comes with youth, but wisdom comes with age!
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thanks kindly, peter
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I bet your life-story is far more than something for dull historians! 🙂 Happy Birthday!
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thanks kindly
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Poignant and lovely.
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thanks dearly
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Belated birthday wishes, Paul.x
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thank you, Anne-Marie
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Ah, but the moments were not so forgettable at the time. It’s when we look at the accumulated moments that they become a blur.
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like seeing the tree or the forest – but never both
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