"Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art." WB Yeats

Full-flame forgetfulness
insinuates the day away
robs us of memory
and wont fade away
despite wordy tantrums
in this annex to my life
spoiling,  rampaging
along the avenue
of years,
unbidden tears
trample down my face
memories stored in lace
memory not history
abides against the rules
wise fools breed
monuments to unageing intellect
as the light declines
fools who spake in rhyme
your memories for a moment
your memories for a dime
as the hungry stand in line
and as we leave it all behind
for what's so heavy
as the light of  the mind?

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