Baptism into Oblivion

The multitude gather,
aged and frail, bathe
in the beautiful river,
wash in forgetting
clean as any absence ever was.

Then all dissolves
to a home
which is not home.
Blank confusion
stares out at bland walls.
Worried hands work
against each other
to find … what was it? …
grasped
a mere moment before.

Behold this sleight of hand
of mind upon the self
where the wide river
shrinks to a dead cistern
and the coin never held
never drops
into an empty well
of wishes never asked.

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19 thoughts on “Baptism into Oblivion

  1. Is that the bridge Monet painted?

    There is an old pond near my home that was used for Baptisms for many years. It is now in ruin, dam breached, almost dry. Like your cistern. Powerful.

  2. I love the way this ends… taking you back up to the title. So many of us fail to ask for what we want, and yet somehow still expect to get it. A great write!

  3. I’m sorry my friend. Your work only makes me want to give up writing, not living :) As a very wise man once said, (Chris Pine, of ‘Lone Ranger’ infamy) “if you’re not as smart as Socrates, you’re stupid.” Still, I think you’d agree that all humans can benefit from some creative outlet, or another – even the ‘stupid’.

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