The Scattered Shards of My Memory

I wish I could seize the wind.  It is stealing my memories into the fading orbit of time.

Leaving me with only the scattered shards of my past. 

Ten thousand clouded pieces of poise and unrestrain lie. Gently settled. Motionless and aging, towards reassemble they toil.

Like some sharply blurred hues into the canvass of my mind.