We hunt around in the muck and dirt of memory
looking for some semblance of meaning
a revelation that will explain to us
our soul
fallen ice cream cones, parental slights
some small piece of the puzzle
even just a figment
darker images cloud over us and pass us by
too hard to take
put on the radio, watch tv
mellow out and forget
the forward flow of life, a potent drug
that keeps us from remembering
all we’d sworn not to forget.
– Marya Ophir
[update: Oops, there's an unintentional pun in the post title. A fault of the transcriber no doubt and not the muse.]
