from a memory

she came to me from a memory
but yet a past i had run from
for here was a young
not untouched
not unloved
but still yet unreached
for a mind and body a woman yearns
can tire of the ageless child so many women hold
but is it real
this passion which yearns
or is the crave but a show
and i its luckless clown
or is it another faint soliloquy
“as a young may be wise, so then may the wise be young”
for although she may understand
and accept
i know as i have known before
that she will never realize
and as i wonder
may a bird fly
or a trout swim
or a lover spawn
for as i may
and shall
plant my hurried seed to her
i know i will never remain to plant again
be it that i have still to find myself
for a poem may be my answer
to the fear of being forgotten