Sifting Through Memories   Sifting through a room of half lost memories, Interpreting the hastily scratched hieroglyphs, Piecing together my broken eras of childhood, Fond and distressing dreams are brought to mind.   "You should speed your pace,"      is what they say, They believe I clean;      truly not so.   I'm sifting through a room of half lost memories, Split between which to lose and those to keep. Knowing that for this life most are gone, I try not to remember the number             *     *     *   Sifting through a box of nearly lost memoies, Wishing I had known "life" could be this warm. Sharing those left, with my beloved, Whom I'd not have found, (If I'd not looked up.)   -T. Gene Davis