It’s not unsavoury innocence
marred by memories of flavour
taints, old events and must of
ages or its consequence, but
yet ovation-rich in phrases of
a likeness plagued on pages
blank, of things once redolent
with scents commemoration
A past cannot be over-writ in
praise with easy words whose
wit post scribes its genesis –
we view today in naked terms
as residues of who we were,
as use-assays imperatives
© 6 January 2012, I. D. Carswell
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