Red Clay Memories
red clay memories
in the rugged cracked red clay
earth are my memories
dirt that is so dry
it blows like dust in the wind
when you ball it in your hand
and blow on it
my tears flow
glossing over them
the water-mixed memories
sink to the bottom
forming deep tepid pools of resource
for my hungry soul when I'm
parched for more
a poem describing the texture of my memories
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