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