I am the shadow of a forgotten memory glistening on my windowpane,
All wet with morning rain.
The man I see, only fleetingly; is never me!
Yet his visage follows my every waking step.
A dash of wine; spattered on my ragged beard, like so much unneeded blood;
I wonder if it is mine.
The ache of forgetfulness seeps into my soul, and I am grateful,
For the reprieve.