In Time (revised)

There was a time 

...when I needed to name the moments
   so each could be filed in a memory
   that is too worn and weary to recall without cues--

...when my throat, inflamed and rough,
   couldn't hold my voice;
   when doubt strangled my thoughts before words formed--

       --Because minutes don't pause to be mourned

I keep postcards from the past in a worn leather briefcase.
They were ribboned and packed only after
I did my business with time.

Now, names I assigned to the moments then,
fall into my head
as dead as the browned autumn leaves.
And as easy to ignore,

         --in time.

~MNH