To oblivion

When the curtain of the Ages that had slowly closed

Lifts someday:

then old recall lays unclogged

To come trickling gently through.

A flood of recollections: Images from the past    

The smells   The sounds   from a life that was,

Whip into shape, with becoming haste

And oblivion is returned from the lost

The joys of new, and the oft-recalled old

Are trite, trifling, in the legion of the Known

Repeated recall turning memory impure

With none of the lustre of the very obscure

But the Known that wanes, to be born again

Delights afresh, as Remembrance re-owned

Oh Glorious Oblivion!

Sweet un-remembering!

This tucking away in ridges of the brain

All for the joy of being found… just once again