tangling

As days gather like storms in the distance,

as tomorrows diminish,

as they fleet past,

the entanglement of memories

becomes jumbled and jungled,

juggled by the tentacles

of might-have-beens,

almosts and nearlies.

Some are snared

wriggling in their captivity

to change their lot,

others are frozen,

forged in ice,

statues and monuments

to victories and failures

on the way to empire.

These are the days

of examining;

forensic dissection

before contamination

by the rain of memory -

the precursor of storm

and the closing of doors.