You are not what you were
The way a river flows
That’s called by just one name.
To recollect can be
A trap, an unreality —
A truth that is no longer here
Will not be false, but still
Will not be real. Like music
When we’ve lost our dance and partner,
Or like running through
A game no longer played.
So you would steal
My memories, the joys I call to hand?
This is a sabotage:
For feelings are
Our ultimate reality,
And you should know this, friend.
They aren’t unreal
Because they aren’t outside our heads;
That is a fallacy.
Better to sing remembered tunes
Than give into a vain and present
Silence, if there still be music
In your heart.
