Nostalgia

Nostalgia

 

Wasn’t it better, being young and free
Riding a Chopper, watching Jackanory?
Dreaming in tones of sepia and burgundy
Is not for me.
I’ve got a poor memory.

Back then us kids respected our elders
Said thank you and please and held doors
Took six of the best and didn’t need more.
I’m not so sure.
My memory is poor.

A fuzzy golden blanket, warm and light
Mastermind games and dad’s always right
Defending the heart from today’s evil shite.
Is that right?
I don’t recall if that’s right?

I know that the future looks cold, hard and scary
Too bright for weak eyes and bones getting weary
But a half-imagined past is not my retreat
That’s not for me.
I cherish my poor memory.


July 2023

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