This poem was inspired by a comment from poet, Robert Okaji (https://robertokaji.com/) about my poem, To That Girl
Is it good to remember who we were,
does memory have an age?
To remember times when we were young,
returning youth to doting stage.
How can a memory be old,
Stuck in the age when it unfolds?
Memory is time’s mirror,
Reflecting images lost in years,
A fairground terror .