My Past Returns Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

A tamer version of myself,
I rise from day to day

Fit for consumption publicly,
in camouflage I play

Memories deep, and memories stored,
from oh so long ago

Now sleep inside my attic,
ephemeral they glow

My current frame of reference…
four always two plus two

The mundane I show deference,
to do what others do

But late at night I hear those sounds,
now coming down the hall

Remembrances to fill my dreams,
my treasure out of pawn

With sleep unchained, the night on fire,
I return to who I am

And pray that on tomorrow's eve,
—my past will come again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2017)