A big roll of film

Quickly unwound 

Is feeding my mind

With pictures

Thousands of pictures.

I have seen them all,

Once, twice and many times

I do not know;

The screen

In the back of my mind

Displays them continually,

Some in clear, smooth lines

And others shaded or defused.

Why? I do not know.

These are not dreams though

That tease me no end

That I do not need them

These are recorded memories

Part of my learning,

They are my experiences,

Close and linked with me.

Try I may,

Some of them,

I am not able to read.