Forgetful

Frank Solanki

I think I am forgetting something I shouldn’t forget
I’ve marked it on the calendar but the reason hasn’t struck yet
Is it Anne’s anniversary? Is it Beth’s birthday?
Am I supposed to be at home? Or go out with Beyonce?
Am I supposed to be at Fred’s to catch a football game?
If I’ve stood you up today, I am not to blame
Blame it on my memory. It’s faulty and it’s frail
Storage is all well and good but retrieval is a fail
That’s what age makes you do. Everything goes astray
Oh boy I can’t remember just what it is today

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Castle in the air

The Midnight Ember

There is a castle I live in, with glass walls that kiss the sky.

It holds clasped around it an air of mystique, of whispered secrets and hushed murmurs, cloaked around those four glass walls no one has seen within. There are no doors and windows, no way of entering at all. The glass is tinted, so that everything inside is merely a grey blur.

Inside: the grass is dead, the air stale.

Each day, I step outside, and I am remoulded, recast into different flesh, en vogue.

I step outside and my shadow is lighter, as though I have left a shade of it behind.

I step outside, and my world is anything I want it to be.

I can be one amidst a million again, a thread blending seamlessly into the cloth. Or I can be a single streak of silver against black.


I am a storyteller: telling…

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