For many months
Waking to the same sound
A compact disc
Loaned by a friend
A morning reveille

I ignored the future
Mistaking the fog for priority
Dragging my bones westward
Failing to account for taste
Never removing the music
From where it stimulated awakening

Meaning I returned home
Every evening
Uninterested by change
Absent stimulus inherent
Inheriting a lasting memory
That would lie latent
Dormant until last night here
When leaving neuro-somatic downtime
I established my space-time location
To be couched in terms of
A conscious doze
Decades having elapsed
Sand, fingers, gravity.

Here-now torrential doubt
As to which circuit stores this
A sensorial memory, sure
But who is serving me
Who sees the following foe
A badly drawn face
A red background

Easily found in the crowd
Yet number one is unfamiliar
Visualising a sound’s genetic code
A song I never really heard
Taunted by a comment made
In conversation with a friend
From which no action stemmed
Ephemeral like the meantime
Yet far from meaningless
Seeking not time lost
But development ungained
Failing plasticity elapsing
As emotional climates form
What person did I become
In leaving a habit behind
Never fully cultivated