Watermarks
if I turn left
i end up near my dead mother
she has a green mound
but there are lots of green mounds
there’s a street map in a fisherman’s pocket
a splashing sea has soaked its print
signs and roads melt
it could be Atlantis, or maybe
a bus route for north London.
mind-mice remodel the big picture
details defy interpretation until lost
appearance and disappearances
wash each other into new way signs
places once left
become a cardboard box in Baltimore
a cement maze in Ulan Batur
watermarks of places never seen
until you hold them up to the light
and embossed upon memory
is just another road to nowhere
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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