Memory

I have a childhood memory
Umbrella stolen by the breeze
And yet I cannot true recall
If such a day occurred at all

I lived a life of fantasy
A child’s view of reality
And at this memory’s very core
Are faces never met before

And which more real, what was true done
Or dreams I wished so fevered on?
The truth is slipping by degrees
Umbrellas lost on errant breeze

(c) Helen Valentina 2014, All Rights Reserved

About helenvalentina

Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
This entry was posted in Air, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Memory

  1. I love this, Sis. I spent a lot of time dreaming as a child….sometimes I wonder if some of those faces I remember were real or imagined. Yes, loved this. :) Hugs & love!

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