Do I Remember?

It rained today, or maybe it didn’t.

The pale light settled on smooth, flat surfaces,

touching and not touching,

becoming and not becoming,

its existence producing a flurry

of affirmations and negations

until I question whether it is me or another

who experiences life in this fashion.

Have I awoken to conceptualization?

Temperamental green faded into the gray,

nature held no avarice, nor joy

and the moss and loam held gloom

like a candle in a cripple’s hand

walking creaking stairs in an abandoned house

where cobwebs clog the shadows.

Only the smell makes sense.

Who knew trees bend the way

our houses say they do.

Feeling the damp wool of a sweater in the rain

I know of mold and mildew,

have seen bad bread, sniffed sour milk.

I know the horror and diminution of my days

as night’s chill invades balding skin

one square inch at a time.


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