SPLINTERS

I cannot remember her eyes.

Try as I might

I am losing pieces of

what I once held so dear.

The thing that I fear

is that my memories of her

will erode completely.

It has not been so long

such a intestinally twisted road

from then until now

and yet

I have lost so many things along the way:

her favorite song

her grandmother's burial site

the taste of her sighs

her eyes...

It has not been shattered

the long-ago that we shared

but it is not as strong

as it once was.

And though it resists senility

it is going.

It is balloon-leaving

above the road

we once trod.

I am seeing the past escape

before my very eyes

but not hers.

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