Montages Of Memories

How and of what memories are made

Let us put together a montage

Of aromas…In our minds

Perhaps of Juicy Fruit gum

Perfume, sweat or of Roses

Of rain on hot pavement

Of tar, surf and the Seaside

Of candies, pastries baking

Of gun smoke…and loam

And any and every other aroma that 

Wafts you back home

Then add to this construct

The sense of touch:

Of textures both smooth and rough

The feel of soft skin

Breezes that caress one’s face

The feel of heat and cold

The texture of silk…and lace

The hardness of marble

The warm flush of pleasure

And the cold ,cold feel of steel

Now add to this assemblage

An assortment of sights:

Of Moonlight on snowdrifts

And star sprinkled skies

And the amazing innocence

In an infant’s eyes

The smile on loved one’s faces

The wrinkles of age…

the dimples of youth

The sight of wondrous places

Now affix to this conjured up collage

The sense of sound:

The peal of bells…of whispered sighs

Echoes in dells…and sad muffled cries

Of sudden sharp reports

The sounds of winsome song

Sawmill snores

And sniffs and snorts

That endure the whole night long

Of soft peeps of baby birds

To raucous cries of crows

The urgency in lover’s pleas

The passion in their words

This montage in truth 

Is like an iceberg 

whose mass lies mostly ‘neath the sea

And is both compromised 

And comprised

of both truths and lies

…That we call our memory…

Author's Note

This one like many of mine tends to lurch along in Frandensteinian fashion