Memory
...that builds its scaffolding within
neuro-rivulets
brain tidy
or caught in random whims
to form a sense of self
memory, where it resides
with packed up boxes of old photos
sometimes in mistakes made
that rub me the wrong way
like the gray torn threads of frozen seams
no microscope needed
recalling
a spring of sprawling promises
in a stubbled field where lovers once cooed
memory tousled like skipping ropes abandoned
or in your grandmother's hands craddling tea
fitting thoughts of tip-toed dancing
or childhood blips of snatching snowflakes
on tongues and lashes
sometimes the shoes it wears are boots in war song blues
or slippers that breeze through rosebud dreams
sleighs down hills
and sugar apples at Halloween
beyond the frame of what has ceased
memories like rock yokes about our necks
or the morning bread on which to feast
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