A Scattered Memory as Verse

was there then a red rainfall
my memory is not complete
the years have played with my recall
so lest my verse be obsolete
I can remember water though
black as blood streams everywhere
river crossing, gutters flow
to fountain’s crystals in the square,
there is no more that I may tell
nor will my story ever end
for recollection’s empty shell
allows what was with dreams to blend

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