The week of reflection continues…

The painting on the wall is unfamiliar
I’m told it’s one of mine
My memory of creating it doesn’t exist
although I recognize the errant brush stroke
as something I might do

The pen strokes in the book are more familiar
I recognize the writing as mine
My memory of the words isn’t quite so clear
I’m surprised by some of the things I write
as much as they may be true

The sudden shift to blue
colors everything in view
Stop-and-start becomes the default mode
My perspective whips from past to past to future
one moment clarity, the next encrypted code

(12 May 2015—posted May 13)