that is all

Poem #44 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

can it be

deader than death

it has never been

I know it well
for I lived it
it is gone and what remains
is only now

inside my head
and mine alone

I am the only one
who saw it
and even I
can’t know
what it is
that I recall

the real of it
is gone
it never was
and memory has a palette
to paint anything
that it wants

it’s deader than dead
I know now
it never occurred


false recollection

that is all

deader than dead
and that
is all

© Frank Prem 2017

Bachelard and me Poem #45: tap tap

2 thoughts on “that is all

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