Flashback

Scorched from a placid reservoir of memory,
Blown to sky by a gusty present,
Candy-flossed to clouds in distant nostalgia,
Come crashing down the drops
on my block of concrete ...

I hold my palms out in this rain
like a priest holds fire,
Collecting fragments
as the drops splatter in and out,
Images like random pages
from a torn flicker book,
Lighting up, dimming out ....

I splash my face with this water,
It adheres around my face,
Seeps within my skin,
Back into that reservoir it came from