Descending down the darkened stairs that lead into my mind

I brush away the cobwebs, more and more I seem to find

Collecting on my memories as they hold on each quite fast

I struggle to remove them from my time within the past.

Sometimes I look in earnest as I seek a certain one

To verify specifics of a tale I might have spun.

At times I wander aimlessly, picking out one here and there

Endless shelves on caverned walls with memories fog in air.

Remembered gems occasionally fall, unbidden, to mind’s floor

Requiring reassembly in vague hopes I might restore

The details that transpired and in which order they occurred

My care in restoration sometimes leaves them slightly blurred.

The clarity of mind, which in my youth was unsurpassed,

Now seems a shortened taper, whose light I know won’t last.

My memories may not be true, but still, they warm my heart

Remembering life’s theater, and how I played my part.

By James Geehring

From: United States