Advent Memories. (New Poem).

Slowly degrading memories.
A signature on a testament.
A photograph, paper thin and fading,
Just like the pages of a discarded book,
A paperback bought for a few old pennies,
Then left on a window ledge.
Sometimes the recording of a voice
Repeating the same old sentences
Again and again and again,
Petrified sound waves mocking a life once loved.

The bunch of bones left rotting in a coffin,
Appear to have no relationship,
No tangible link
To many of these magical artifacts,
These tokens left from a life that puzzle us
As we try to touch the past and make it real,
Bring once familiar faces back to life,
Warm and loving and full of joie de vivre.

The table that I work on is a hundred years old.
The polished top reflects my hand as though it

                                                     were a mirror,

A mirror of dark images

That are faded out the instant lamplight fails.

Is this all we leave behind us? A room furnished

                                               with forgetfulness

For other folk to live in, to remodel for themselves? 
Perhaps these fading images are everything we are;

Reflections of how other people dream us.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
18th. - 26th. May 2020. - November 29th. 2020.

A rewrite of the poem Ascension.