A Consternation of Forgetfulness
Our memories are only mirrors backed
With ruined silver, tarnished souvenirs
Remembered by each other. What they’ve lacked
In authenticity they’ve mixed with tears
Or brightness so that seeming to forget
We cleverly do conjuring with no
Material, really, more of a dinner set
That’s made of smoke with a porcelain glow.
Our memories are memories recalled
By memories, in pleasing, painful lights
Less strong than candle flames that time has mauled.
Our reveries are stands against mind blights.
We make our memoirs up from what we hear
As echoing of empty, wished for cheer.