Lost Memory

Lost Memory
by Vivian Gilbert Zabel

Memories tease with a tempting taste of yesterday
Then flicker away before I can fully favor the flavor,
Leaving a vague sense in the back of my brain
Of something no longer there, of something gone.
I search in dark, dank corners, hidden places,
Brushing strands of spider webs away as they cling,
Tangling me in sticky gossamer nets and snares.
Finally, I spy a tattered ancient trunk under piles
Of pitiful, plentiful mounds of dirt and dust mites.
I silently slip to lift the lid, seeking a secret desire,
Wanting to find at last what I no longer have:
My wandering, rambling, forgotten, lost mind.