A Memory philosophical poem

i remember you

i mean….

i don't know

i remember you

gentle 

with a caterpillar

on your finger 

how can I hate you

when you exist in that reality

a memory painted golden

by time

that is not even mine

but a thing told in passing

a thing you said

that just stuck in my mind

i can see you

putting the caterpillar in your pocket 

with those huge calloused hands

so carefully 

so you could find it a home

some place safe

from a place of danger 

but you are the gentle symbol of my hate

the expression of humanity i distrust

yet cannot help but love

the thought of you

that I have shined

and polished

precious

hunched over 

head buried in your hands

in an existential pose

of despair

of pain

of time

of erosion

here i sit

as you once sat

generation after generation

the same posture

the same form

the same potential

untapped

in that futile

huddle

a circle

unbroken

stops at my feet

but we now

are the caterpillars

that may or may not

exist

in this gentle

time

i have made.

                                                                                                pdphoto.org