They inhabit the shadowy twilight realm
Between reality and fantasy, soft grey
The more you try to hold on to them
The faster they trickle away
Water slipping through cupped hands.
Some grow distorted beyond recognition
Whimsically embellished as time passes by
Until one cannot separate truth from fiction
However hard he may try
The departing wave reshapes the sands.
Others escape, no matter how tight
They are locked away in that box
Embedded in the corner farthest from light
They slip out from between the chains, bolts and locks
Those burnt into the brain with brands.
Some are distinct, sharp Technicolor outline
Others blur seamlessly into one another
Some long forgotten, jostled back into the mind
With a hint, a melody, a fresh baked smell, a whisper
A déjà vu the heart understands.
Some strung together in an interlocked chain
One leads to another and that to one more
Till you make that whole trip, down memory lane,
Picking up bits and pieces galore
Old times, long-gone people, near-forgotten lands...
