Calling My Name

In the sandbox of my memory reasons come and go Castles worn in corners scorned left without a moat Granulated laughter idle unreleased Waiting for a last return covered over deep The jungle gym sits dormant a mass of rusted links One ring missing ladder gone the rope swing short and kinked The teeter totter frozen its pivot rusted tight The sliding board a one-way trip fading into night The sandbox of my memory where feelings go to die My childhood friends whose echo’s rend timeless bye and bye Still one last voice is buried deep within the grains The one I shunted until now —calling out my name (The New Room: August, 2022)