POETRY | MEMORIES
Recalls of Reminiscences
Tanka Prose
In the motorized mélange of mayhems and restraint of a busy early winter-like afternoon, a honeybee clashes fervently with the meshed door. It is not allowed. Beyond the door is not its place. Instead, I empowered it. How? I left it on its own. In the end, it found its way back to its dwelling.
Within a few minutes, the busyness calms down. Misty rain showers start and go on, unbroken, from a cloud-concealed sky. Droplets of my memories too fall, unanticipated. Trickle into my occupied hands, yet unoccupied. From somewhere, anywhere. They don’t have a path. I wander deep into their heart. I feel moist eyes, yearnings, faint fog, freezing nights, and a lonely moon. My memories have safely saved this treasure in their laps…
If I want them as is, why am I not comforted when they tug at me? If I want solitude, why am I not comforted when I’m alone? Ten years have passed. Some memories follow me whenever/wherever they want. Like honeybees, do they lose their path, wander to places they aren’t needed, go back to where they belong?
dewdrops can exist
on rust iron clotheslines too
soft trice will suffice
they fall downwards to dissolve
never to wake up from ground
All Rights Reserved
© A.H. Mehr — 2024
With thanks to Denise for publishing my poem.
