This week's prompt at Poetry Thursday is change.
I'm a little distracted this week by things I can't post about yet. I find myself spending my time on physical work in the garden and the like and not thinking too much. I have written some lines on this week's topic at Poetry Thursday - I'm not sure if it's a poem yet. I decided to post anyway, and to think of this as my writing notebook, and the lines as a very rough first draft.
Somehow I hate to miss Poetry Thursday.
The More it Changes...
With each breath out
I scatter myself to the wind.
The child who shares my name
shares little of my substance.
Each minute a slow burning of molecules,
each inhalation a replacement. Why then do I imagine
that I am her, and she is me? I am my own observer.
I change along with what I observe
and feel myself the same. Every minute I remake
even my memories. Even as they die, my neurons
play Chinese whispers with their successors.