Sometimes

Sometimes

So many things seem to

Happen at once

Their progression

Squashed and lacking

In discretion

Before and After

Forgotten

The whys and wherefores

Unremembered,

Just the thing

Whatever it is

In isolation.

I stand before

A stack of boxes

Packed full of books

Overflowing with words.

Prepositions and proposals

Seeping out onto the floor

Washing my feet in text

Most of it

Struggling with the idea

It may never be read again.

In the jumble

The tumble of literary tomes

The splay of academia

Read so long ago

Their worth

In the value I place upon them.

Words flow

On a tide of emotion

Rarely released

For fear,

Of losing my place

In the sequence of events.

Another move

Another town

When will I forget my centre

How did I get here

Where am I bound

When will the worst of it happen?

Not the loss of past times

Loss of love

But the loss

Of who I am.