Driftwood

Time passes
Days go by:
hours, minutes, moments
A piece of driftwood
afloat on a sea
of uncertainty
Time passes
and with each
hour, minute, moment
the uncertainty deepens
Faces fade into merging shapes
Voices tremble away
into dark silences
The edges of memory
soften
And I cant even remember
the smell of home...

Happy Times

Mountains...
rivers...
crimson and gold...
I dont even remember
if those were happy times,
anymore...