Recollecting through the fog

It seems that life
is just a cruel arc
wherein the euphoric moments
and indelible memories
will later cast the shadows
of nostalgia and melancholy
on every delicate frame.
The glorious recollections of the past
become a bitter-stinging slap;
a reminder
of what was once delight,
joy,
excitement
and passion.
So all new endeavors
carry the risk
of deflated expectations
and unattainable hopes.
The taste may fade,
but the urge to keep eating
drives us to gorge
on feelings and dreams
long-past their sell-by-date.

Adrift

How long
must I wait
for brief moments
of unaltered
euphoria?
Longer
now
as time goes on.
Landmarks
of prior moments
litter
my memories:
Birth of my child;
saturated with sound
at a concert….
Too few now.
In my youth
I lived
bathed in
euphoria,
like an endless
desert sun…
baking my soul
with mind rattling
consciousness.
I owned the world…
or a piece of it.
The desert is still here…
but that sun
is harsh
and that euphoria,
the constant periods
of joy,
are few
and unoften.
I am either numb
or
drifting off.