Silt – A Poem by Michael A. Griffith

What goes up must come down
Embracing seems most graceful.
Besides what goes down must come up.

Vita Brevis Press

CaptureSubmitted by Michael A. Griffith

I am beginning to forget more than I care to remember.
Turn out the light and I may forget what is in the room.
I remember Batman and Robin wearing their underwear
on the outside and The Joker had a mustache.
Did I remember to change my underwear today?

I am wondering if I knew you or if I know you.
No, you: you there.
Faces, not names, come to mind.
And smells and sounds wash off decades of silt,
and some details come to the surface like dead fish.

I am ending. I go on ending. I go on worrying when
I can’t remember my way home.
Did you remember to call me like you said you would,
or am I remembering the last time you said you’d call me
and come take me home?


About the Poet

Michael A. Griffith lives in Hillsborough…

View original post 79 more words

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on October 8, 2018, in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. This piece is full of things that call (to me) “Brilliant!”.

    Like

  2. Brilliance also comes to mind, Ben. Thanks for sharing!

    Like

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