Being a truism doesn’t make it less true

that time,

ungraspable, unstoppable (…is it even a thing?)

cannot be slowed – yet can spring

to a frenzy

as the years pile like the pages 

of an indulgent memoir.

One on another, one after the other

as reminiscence grows to a torrent

the dusty parchment fills the squalor 

that becomes of our 

minds and spills to the floor:

the forgotten memories we leave behind.

 

*Image courtesy of pixabay.com

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