A Memory

A memory in my head refuses to go away,
Reminding me of you when I see the pouring rain,
Like a fool drawing me into an old lovely dream,
Like a cone savoring a slowly melting cream.

The memory plays with me a funny game,
Holding you in my heart like the ace of spade,
Playing neither for win, nor for defeat,
Humming the tune of a silent white scream.

The memory bares itself on the way,
Curving its rough water into a sandy bay,
Like a force held on its own selfish being,
Like a piercing ray burning unceasingly.

The memory, caressed by winds astray,
Cunningly sending messengers to come again,
Like multiplying voices knocking the solitary tree,
Like a past unremittingly haunting me…



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