The Persistence of Memory (Poem)

Time passes like a blanket drawn over the world,

Fluttering away to a quieter realm to disintegrate.

You follow behind time just as fate foretold,

And no photos nor journal entries can slow the fade

Of your tanned face. Every crease and fold

Once so familiar in my hands now evades

The persistence of memories that I hold

To my heart as I chant: One day

You’ll return, and we’ll grow old

In the treehouse colored white and jade.

But time passed like volcanic rock turned gold

And hardened my resolution so I hardly ever sway.

The persistence of memory isn’t all that strong,

And now the mere thought of you is foreign and wrong.