Memories of Sage

I faded gently upon a past
when sagely tunes of
Albert caused my emotions
to wither upon a wooden,
cracked rocker-

Creeking softly, as
cobwebs tease the darkest
of shadows, lamp oil
still lingers around bare
toes, meandering with
Lenore's ghost and hosts
of a thousand painful songs.

Prying spliters out of fingers
that have scratched a billion
notches upon my river bed,
it's marveling that I still breathe
those ageless chains of derailment,

however, I'll always adore Albert
and the sweet smell of sage....