Tuesday, 10-26-7

Raw ideas fade like dreams

An idea written in ink only days ago

Has become a riddle

Hiding its intent behind enigmatic script

So vivid in my mind at the time of its inception

That I barely had time to write the words

Before more came bursting through

Insisting to be documented.

Now I scarcely recognize these words

Scrawled in my own hand

Would it that these ideas never presented themselves

As I would never know what was lost

In these few lines

Is it a kingdom?

A spacecraft?

A lover’s quarrel?

I have forgotten

And the idea has passed me by.