With the breeze right, a mem'ry can be sweet
Like the scent left soft by a distant rose.
With the wind wrong, 'tis cruelty complete,
Meanly casting harsh, malodorous blows.

Like that far rose's scent, fair mem'ries are shy.
Friendly gestures must coax them from the mist.
Bad mem'ries storm in with a foul-breathed cry.
They pound the air with a bully's dread fist.

So at your mind's threshold, cut a trapdoor
Set to fall at a heavy mem'ry's shift.
Call then a fine recollect to the fore
So its honeyed counterpoint can uplift.

For all its allure, 'tis not simply done.
But, most assured, 'tis a chase worth the run.


Harry W. Yeatts Jr.