odd times of the night

the personality preferences that once provided structure for
earlier seasons
earlier ages
accumulate in uninvestigated corners
as useless as abandoned telephone numbers
or indeed abandoned telephones
once existed as the architecture of our character
whether we needed them or only thought we did
now just jumbles of doovas and thingummies
thick with dust
a rummage in the suitcase or storage box
finds many of them useless now
but with a veneerish glow
reminding how important we once thought they were
strange to think that a hill
we once would have fought to the death for
can become so lost
its ghostly absence only lingering
in remembrances
at odd times of the night