The Persistence of Memory


Wandering through this desert world,

so hot the clocks are melting,

I stretch out my tongue to drink in time.

The precious moments of life

revive this dehydrated soul.

The persistence of memory,

the good, the bad, the happy, the sad,

lifts my eyes to the mountain horizon;

its snowy peaks give me strength

to rise and walk on.

From A Dance of Dreams
Elise Skidmore ©2015

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