Sonnet to Spaced Repetition

A fleeting glance, assured to pass,
The screaming wind blows through my hollow mind.
Missing words echo out an unbidden past,
A careless whisper traces the path, and I outline.

The wandering eyes of this Janus glance,
To future, to past, to bore into me.
Fragments of past selves reduced to chance,
The endless chants “review,” and I offer my own: “Praise Be!”

Again and again, I toil! The long march stretches on,
A good reprieve, each scald less than the last.
Shifting tides and shaded greens, unto the next dawn,
Through it all, and the harshest cry, I remain steadfast.

A fleeting glance, assured to pass,
Momentous approval, ‘til next our paths cross.