All I Can Tell You

Tragic
How the mind loosens
Its grasp
On memory.

It begins
With the blur
Of definition.

Details
Once crisp
Soften.

The firm grip
Of youth
Transits
To the gentle contact
Of advancing age.

I know
I spent days laboring
In the torrid heat
Of August noons.
But what I recall
Is simply
They were warm.

I’m certain
I gave much time
Shivering
In frigid Februarys.
But all I remember is
I was cold.

I know I tossed
Sleeplessly
In worried nights.
But all I recollect is
I was concerned.

I know
I thrilled
To passion’s touch.
But all I remember is
I was loved.

I know
Her eyes
Were the color
Of October’s leaves
But all I can imagine is
They were hazel.

I know
Age brings loss.
But all I can tell you is
I have already forgotten more
Than I ever really knew.