I have no wish to classify shadowy explorations—
furtive trips to low-life bars or questionable vacations.
I’m aloof in my present. I don’t think about my past.
I have no need to dwell upon times more overcast.
In past attempts to deal with them, I tried to rearrange them
to find they only frustrate me because I cannot change them.
Still, memory’s tyranny will win. I can’t escape, it seems.
Those shadows banished in the day creep back into my dreams.