Past Imperfect (Poetry)

Up through the layered silt of memory
it rises like a body long ago consigned
to a deep lake or river bed then suddenly
disturbed it loosens from its resting place
and floats towards the surface — bloated
almost beyond recognition for the years
have changed things — distorted details
until a positive identification becomes
almost impossible — time plays tricks
and the harder the brain tries to focus
the more things blur — become unsure
and names dissolve — are washed away
for there have been too many yesterdays
and people start to look the same
as other people from the past — it’s hard
to know what really happened back then —
were we there or was it all
a dream of life we try as best we can
to simply hang on to?