Memory

8 August 1970

I do not remember the day too well

no longer feel the rain that fell

nor hear the rumbled thunder

in the distant storm.

For those were moments within years,

shooting stars across an ocean of time

the other side of a passing horizon.

I no longer fit within the uncomfortable suit

nor stride the pace of youth

in shiny shoes.

The silky whiteness of your dress

now clothes my head in decreasing strands

metamorphosing like the colour of the wedding photos:

loosing  their blues and definition.

There are creases in my skin.

But love remains whilst all else decays,

a love that moves along the path we travel

constantly changing chrysalis love

in a nursery of time.

I do not remember the day too well

its smell and taste and sounds

are beyond my conjuring;

and I am not he, nor are you she,

who walked those early steps.

They are behind us

skipping through cornfield memories

and today we harvest together.

 This is part of the August blog chain of writing on the theme 'memory' by members of ChristianWriters.com  Please see the full list of those involved (in the right hand column) and visit a few of the others.