Surrounded by things
And by what their memory brings
Opens vistas
Conjures images
And resonant rings
That construct and deconstruct the past
In ways that leave one aghast
At the variety of selves
And their accompanying narratives
That seek to last.
Which will it be
Indeed how do you foresee
The self that treasures the best
Of what has gone before
And still is the “me”
That has grown to be able
To turn the table
On expectations that limit
The scope and power
Of the new fable
That constitutes my life.
Aaltoe's Blog 
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