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Fragmented memory doth reside

inside; some I recall with shame

and some, with pride, hope, pain

hate, Love and some laughter; yet

none that I can name, with regret.

Sadness at the memory of those known, fills me as I think of their loss from my Life; and, how would it be, if they were to re-enter it; and I still feel like that every moment of thought of Them, ‘bout each I cared for ~ Loved; who truly meant something to me, who helped form who I am.

Yet, it's not that which is so important, it's that we have a representation in our minds-eye, a stylized them, that has little connection with the reality if 'them'. Yet, it's the ‘them’ we recall & yearn for.

The I who was, could be garrulous and social, able to talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime and, at anyplace. With that in mind, I had listened to someone talking to someone, as she awaited the train that never came, as she spoke of three thousand five hundred calories and, gave me a story that I asked of, as I had time. Sounding as meek as I needed, so as to appear safe to this waif, on a station, all alone. And we spoke of stories untrue and true, as we passed the time, till our train was finally due. And, she had asked me if it were mine as well, as I’d walked .up the platform and, into the dark, of the part of the platform, where I always stand, with my final smoke before the journeys beginning my sole concern; as I looked to the board, knowing that I had only two minutes to wait; as grey clouds floated midst the night sky and, a pocket of royal blue shines through, with a ball of silvery light at it’s centre, as the Full Moon shines upon me.