Remembrance of Things Past

Today, I spent a great deal of my time reading up on Marcel Proust. He's said to be the quintessential 20th century writer, spending his life writing volumes of his novel that no one reads. "In search of lost time" really resonated with me.



I return to writing in stream of consciousness for this poem, and I'm surprised by the results. I would love to hear feedback, or interpretations for this one. Thanks!