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