Recollections

recollections, tenderized over the years
lay in wait for old age to appear waving
the hand of forgiveness by hauntingly
vivid images of unnecessary forfeited innocence;

recollections, not imagined, teasingly taunt
the house keepers of my soul like a group of
ordained witches seeking protective asylum
from those who would be soon forgotten friends;

recollections, like acupuncture needles, pierce
the membrane of the fabric that shields me from
the escaped truth that once united my trinity and
provided me with gentle streams of mindful peace;

recollections, aged in the broth of cynicism, are
now removed from my mental grill and placed
on a delicate plate to be eaten and regurgitated as
though a mother bird was feeding her young wisdom.

10Dec13