The tether of reality is my moment when
the book is looked upon in past tense views,
but where moments were etched in perpetual
granite a reflection of substantial etchings fades.

Images that were of conciseness now only
viewed in edited additions, those facades
of what I once knew, are seen as scratched
out faces of what was once there now threadbare.

I walked in the footsteps of my past, losing every
past one linking then to now. Footprints were
neither in front or behind, I was lost in blindness
of white washed memories now excluded from thought.

"You asked me a question today?

"Do you remember me Daddy,

I just looked at you in a distant fog, and remembered a face
once known and then it dissipated in to confusion and anxiety.

"Your daddy must be worried about you little one,

"He always worries about me,

As tears fell from her eyes I gave her a tissue and as she wiped
them away a sadness in her eyes as she said.

*"My daddy got lost but I hope to find him again one day,