Was that me?

a poem by Chloe Margaret Taylor, UK

I remember, I remember
Days from years ago,
Thoughts in streams then fuddled dreams
Of things I used to know.

A white house, a blue door,
Stone steps all grown with green,
A high bed, the faint dread
My late light might be seen.

I remember, or I try to,
But memories might be dreams.
And when I try, the thoughts unwind,
Come apart at the seams.

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