the past
traced in thought
and etched
as in stone
in our minds
impossible to forget
yet painful at times
to remember
as we fumble forward
ever again
memory
oh how brief
the ice melts
in the glass
of Black Bush
and my mind
like the ice
dissolves
into memories
of shared bottles
of old friends
of time past
and oh how brief
ice lasts
in a glass
the words
the words
so faint now
at three am
with a glass
or three
of Jameson
to add to the haze
that is memory
here there
somewhere
a voice fades
in out
and time
that old bandit
robs me
once again
of the words
from a line by Tu Shen-yen: ancient songs
they float in the air
those tunes
those lyrics
transporting me
five thousand miles
five six decades
there in ancient songs
lie thoughts
of home
mist of time
there is laughter
children’s voices
rise and fall
in the morning mist
my mind drifts
hearing other voices
in the mist
of time
so long ago
after Liu Tsung-yuan: holding back tears
gazing at a picture
taken years ago
you dancing in apron
a holiday meal
among family
many of whom
are gone like you
it’s hard
holding back tears
knowing never to see
you dancing again
or singing off-key
those Italian songs
echoing in a house
no longer mine
from a line by Li Po: aching heart
thousands of miles
countless years
cannot soothe
an aching heart
last words
your last words
crumbs in my mouth
failing to fill
the void
you left behind
in the air
what is left
a faint wiff
of perfume
in the air
between then
and now
a long time in passing
a little black dress
the wiff of perfume
in the air
as she passes
and suddenly
there you are
front and center
in my memory
and this night
will be a long time
in passing
