Adelaide B. Shaw

Time Passes

Memories accumulate, pile one on top of another, become jostled, fall and reassemble, sometimes whole as before, often fragmented, shiny bits of a polished mirror reflecting back small details, others become as smoky glass, vague and half seen and some are lost, perhaps only temporarily, in the mound of impressions and expressions or, perhaps, in a later shift to be on top, clear and sharp.

childhood photos
looking back at myself
when I looked ahead