I remember so little of the many lives that I have lived.
The sea-wide echoes stray in distance,
And return to the shore, telling stories I have forgotten.
Were those my tales that thrummed over the waves,
And reached the edges of the otherworld?
Those plundered dreams, like pebbles in the surf,
Have a smoother face when seen anew,
And seem no longer such a load to bear.
If in another land a lone figure walks with purpose,
Let it be her to whom the whispers speak,
For she is in the newer life, and should I forget all,
The distant one will live, and I will die gladly.
By Rachel Norris
Prompts: memory, distance