After the Storm

Dampened, drenched planks beneath my feet,
Each step unfolds reflected, unslaked scenes,
As steady waters flow, e’er silently, sedate,
At close of day, imbued with subtle gleam.

Perhaps they’re just mirages or conjured dreams,
But no, I’ve been here thousand times before,
And tho some oft remembered, it would seem
That memories and dreams shan’t be ignored.

Vivid, lucid dreams are unreal from the start,
Memories, though suppressed, will e’er remain
upon the psyche,  etched and ne’er forgot,
Consciously or not, replay again.

The tactile remnants of this evening’s rain
Refresh my mind’s eye, reminisced refrain.

Photo Friday: Clouds