Pixelated

©2012, Olan L. Smith

'Twas a time when things perceived were sheltered in my head

Awaiting an occasion to retrieve; but now, chagrined.

They are fleeting with my age, a mist in the wind

Somewhere they are lost in my cranium those forgotten things that were said―

No memos or lists I needed

A mere mention was thought retrieved

Ask a time or date; ask me to affirm facts believed

I would answer with ease but now recall is faded, barricaded ―

I rummage deep grasping ghosts dissipated

I am lost in a menagerie of broken glass, a mirror no longer reflective

I fumble for the key to unchain recollections — it is ineffective;

My memories are an illusion, tiny specks scattered and pixelated.

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