Memory and Forgetting November 05, 2012
(Dedicated to a Monsieur Le Coq)
You stand here, solemn, silent, by my side,
Whispering softly of a time gone by;
The waves of could’ves flow in with the tide,
The wind murmuring should’ves with a sigh
Somewhere in time, unknowing, unheeding, uncaring,
it was I who jumped ship, making instead,
a choice of warmth temporary, more comforting then
than this, the narrow river of reason you tread.
Your lines were sharper, your principles ever
more principled in a singular face.
Mistaken, was I, that they our thread would sever,
while forgetting all those decisions misplaced.
Dear Sir, upon this road I can’t return,
Were that I had taken yours, old friend, and that
In your company I could partake, than this
ghost’s. Sir, could it be that I you regret?
Whispering softly of a time gone by;
The waves of could’ves flow in with the tide,
The wind murmuring should’ves with a sigh
Somewhere in time, unknowing, unheeding, uncaring,
it was I who jumped ship, making instead,
a choice of warmth temporary, more comforting then
than this, the narrow river of reason you tread.
Your lines were sharper, your principles ever
more principled in a singular face.
Mistaken, was I, that they our thread would sever,
while forgetting all those decisions misplaced.
Dear Sir, upon this road I can’t return,
Were that I had taken yours, old friend, and that
In your company I could partake, than this
ghost’s. Sir, could it be that I you regret?