memore

By the flimsiest thread,

Memories are tied

And cast across time,

They stretch to abide.

That reality shreds

And another begins

Renewed in its stead.

Is it just 

Carelessness,

The sun-hot moment

Incrementally dimmed,

That burns to bust and

Seems less urgent?

No, not by design

Cold filaments snap,

Rememberance chills.

A mere hundred years!

Maybe, time is a trap

(a balm to fears)

That does us in,

And all begins again.