Lost Days

I gaze backwards,

longing to recapture

something of the past,

sadly aware that the view

has lost certainty,

a crispness gone,

from a thousand yesterdays.

Lost days linger,

suspended over me

in my medicated haze,

a thickened humidity in my brain,

a gloom of memory drapes

like the Spanish Moss

in southern swamps

hangs heavily swaying

descending yet never

falling to the ground beneath.

© ACG

23 March 2012