Recollection No.1
by: Samuel Schaeffer
Let us go then, you and I, into that swampy land of memory Incandescent and irretrievable as the moon
Dredging up those things that ought to be laid low
They have had their time
But nevertheless
In droves they present themselves
Each reeking of ammonia and ancient history
The air ablaze with a sickly sweetness
The hush hush of the nightingale in the willows
The pounding of bare feet in the forest glade
Hair brushing cedarwood
In a silent symphony
They chase one another until
They are swallowed by the night
by: Samuel Schaeffer
Let us go then, you and I, into that swampy land of memory Incandescent and irretrievable as the moon
Dredging up those things that ought to be laid low
They have had their time
But nevertheless
In droves they present themselves
Each reeking of ammonia and ancient history
The air ablaze with a sickly sweetness
The hush hush of the nightingale in the willows
The pounding of bare feet in the forest glade
Hair brushing cedarwood
In a silent symphony
They chase one another until
They are swallowed by the night