April 25th Memory
What form do your memories take?
Events, feelings, conversations.
I remember so much,
And so much more is hidden from my view,
Locked away until remembrance renew.
Images.
Like a box of photographs,
Stored away, gathering dust;
Until casually up they pop – well, if they must.
We looked after dogs Rowley and Rupes today for a while.
And they were so excited to see us.
A temporary yapping and barking affray.
As usual, Rowley got carried away,
Frantically humping his friend, as he may.
Until, well, let’s say…
He got a bit too excited and inflamed,
Engorged and out it popped all red and sore,
And wouldn’t go back in, what’s more!
“He’s in pain… what do we do?”
“Well, I’m not touching it!”
An image from my past came to me.
Of Prince (our pet dog at 400) getting out
And onto a bitch in heat on the crescent green.
Well, it quite shocked me - it was so obscene.
They were fastened together,
Rump to rump.
Post coital and ashamed.
I did what I thought was right at the time.
It wasn’t; I know that now.
But the cold bucket of water had no effect
The still remained stuck, bedraggled and very wet.
I haven’t thought of Prince in ages
But, he is still there ‘sitting in a chair’
(well, obviously not literally.. that’d be daft)
My life is littered
By such post-it notes and scraps
Of such images,
And details and moments
Gone,
And not forgotten.
So much, so much, so much
Crammed and stored away.
Until, well, let’s face it…
Pop! And it’s gone away.
It’s terribly strange,
this
getting old.
No comments:
Post a Comment