WHIRLPOOL

WHIRLPOOL

I seem to remember
That I have forgotten
Remembering
What I’d forgotten
Remembering
In a dream
Where I’d forgotten
I’d remembered
What I’d forgotten
But it is possible
Of course
That I am imagining this.

Who can tell?

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on February 27, 2017, in Poems and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Sounds like my blurry, fatigue days.

    Liked by 1 person

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