the time of year

it is that time of year,

it comes and goes

in waves they say.

unannounced, this is the memory,

physical and mental,

if that word is is politically allowed

these days. in disorder, subconcious,

tide rising , lifting scum .

once realised, that it is time

again, settle back in to the season.

be known that i cannot keep things alive,

i have no power, no means of identification.

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