A short poem for January by David Buck

[New City Magazine – January 2021, page 23]

We are but memories.
That our life leads from,
To where, what was our life
Becomes in someone else,
A mirror image
In their mind.

And as the generations
Reach beyond your time
They know what came before,
When time is handed down
Through memories.

We are but memories,
As our life’s work does show.
Old colleagues meet
And share decision days,
That come to light
In days beyond the now
And make the future
Different for us all.

We are but memories;
Travellers in time,
Flying, walking, bathing,
In some other person’s shadow
Which transfers
And then transforms
Our perceptions
Of its cast.

We are but memories
But every second counts,
Towards a future
That is passed
By us
To Them.

[See the article in full PDF edition on page 23]

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