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.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s