The heat of the day harvests grains of existence from me. I am made aware of the intense transience of memory. So fragile is our being. Even a tiny ray of sunlight takes away from us a hint of what we are. It leaves us questioning what it has taken away. Was it the memory of a day many dawns ago. Was it the chill of the twilight we had so carefully preserved. Or was it instead that very carefully cloistered memory we swore not to lose. There, it is has already peeled away from our skin. It clings precipitously. It floats with the wind. It is airborne. See how it floats away. Watch it fly , let it roam, let it go, it belongs to the winds now.