the accumulation behind my back
lives not just days
lined up like sentry at a wake
shaking hands with the wizened skirts
received along this vantaged line
no remorse held in the basket of wilting lilies
shuttered away even the cobwebs no longer cling to its dry stems
most easily wonder
that’s what I can call it
a wonder with shades
tint imbued my favorites green pink orange keep it ideal
like the nodes of the moon
or stars twinkling over mountaintops
like dots on a graph left here for my review
no I said it
not nostalgic exposition
just a visit with the cloaks and coats
bedecked like this
by my memories
looking a lot like
me