mind

Mind displays on serried trays,
all that thought’s collected,
ranged in rows which life collates;
the minutaie respected.

Large and small the memories,
are counted, held, replayed,
with all that’s ever been retained,
through months and years and days.

Dusty shapes will stand forlorn,
until a choice is made,
consciousness blows dust away;
the then as now arrayed.

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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