Interesting that the poem insists these memories lack touch, Bill, & does so through terms of such...
Doug
On 2013-04-10, at 1:35 AM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> clusters of bright blue memories
> confined, glowingly accessible
> at the caress of a forefinger -
> flickable, manipulable
> eye-seen, fixed;
> no need to grasp and clutch
> at what forms up in the re-forming mind
>
> these memories come pre-packaged,
> framed, pressed into bordered service;
> pillared temples, flushed faces, crisp leaves -
> all are accorded that smooth flat glow
> denying the rasp of textures, prick
> of pungencies, barrage of clatter and hum;
> where be sudden delights, gut rumbles?
>
Douglas Barbour
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