We all have little things we do to relax and unwind. Mine is listening to this Gershwin classic. Continue reading “Blue Rhapsody in Blue”
Friday’s assignment for Writing 201 was to write an elegy using fog as a metaphor. After two days of quite literally nothing, I finally had some form of inspiration.
I don’t exactly like it, but neither do I hate it. It’s broken, yet fixable.
Elegy Time is flying faster now although the days seem long. Mem'ry isn't what it used to be - they say it's only fog. I can't recall my favorite foods, no jokes, no tales, no stories, while I remember mundane things - they say it's only fog. I can't recall our family trips or who we took along. The games we played are all forgot - they say it's only fog. I can't recall my favorite book nor yet my favorite song. Like Richard's mind my spine is bent - They say it's only fog. I can't recall the names of those whose pictures grace my walls, while I remember childhood friends - they say it's only fog. It matters not the words I've said or the places I have gone, for what were once the concrete things are now but sand and fog.
Memories are the lost and found office:
What we wore and what we ate
What we were like
Sometimes, those memories are found by others
A photo album
So we share them.
We share the things in glass cases.
And we are better for it.
This post is being published as part of Writing 101. Challenge 16: Continuing the serial, reflect on the theme of “lost and found.”