Thanksgiving dinner, 1993
 
When I used to gazeinto the flame,
Sounds of memories
echoed within my mind.
 
Things said,
laughter,
clatter.
But never things not stated
or those which should have been.
 
Later, glimpses of scenes
also appeared.
Again,
only what was there,
on the surface.
But with a new found vagueness.
Unsettling.
 
As I gaze now,
some parts of the memories
are no longer with me.
People,
places,
feelings.
What I see and hear,
more strongly,
are faint apparitions of those things
that were not stated
or seen.
And those which should have been.
Funny
how memories change,
as the flame burns down.
 
GPA, 25 November, 1993