You ask if I remember.
I say no.
Give me a pick axe to scale
Mountain of memories:

A word or
A smell or
A sight
Triggers a highlight

To where I search and raise the tool
To chunk away rock: sometimes I
Uncover the tunnel
Leading to potential recollection.

And I drag and slip
And slide and squeeze
through the cracks
Wrong turns,

remind me again?
Sometimes I swim, ice cold,
Forgotten - where
Pockets of air
Are rare

But I raise my eyes above the waters
Skin, cannot find it,
Another one instead.
Tell me more, give me guidance
I’m exhausted.

So I light a small fire -
Smoke will haze sight
But may heighten paths
Because I must know

How to remember;
How do you find it so easy?
How long have I been searching?
Not long before the cold

Entrenches my ability.
I’ve lost the tools
And I’m alone,
And I lean against the wall

Where it all comes crashing down

And I find it!

Sometimes the discovery is
fierce, explosive joy;
Warmth spreads and I can laugh
And cry with delight.
Remember that?

And sometimes I forgot I searched
For rocks to construct a wall,
Treaded ‘til this soften path was lost.
I built this wall with intent -
With precision