May 2022 Forgetting Age
Has the age of forgetting just begun? I'm glad to forget some things but others I want to hold on to as if they’ve begun, as if they’re new, yet familiar, like dawn. Here comes the age of where-has-it-all-gone, when I wonder what may have been before: the color of someone’s eyes, someone who lived nearby, someone whose name I once knew, the certain way a dark cloud haunts the sky. But like the cloud, they’re wisps and mist and last only long enough to become heavy, to fall into unknowing. Sweet and small. I grasp at them. I know they will be missed, as memory, like soft rain, starts to fall.
— Paul Jones
Paul Jones is the author of Something Wonderful.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 45
