Intimations of Affliction

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

My prenatal memories

Not of the womb

But before

Faded over time

As did my predilection

For prediction -

All toys of my youth

That disappeared with age.

Now, morbid ecstasy

Chastens the wind

That blows memory aside

As I look off into the distance

At a blur of nonchalance

Cushioned by a whisper of hope

Buried under a desperate sigh

Beneath my fatal resignation.