Memory by SAVANNAH CLARY
Your thoughts are carried free upon the waves
But when I went there all I found was ice
And when it cracked the brine filled up my lungs
You tell me memory is like a tree
Where seeds of past experiences grow
But all my trees are weak and full of rot
Their leaves all whisper things I cannot hear
You say that I should paint what I recall
That recollection comes idle thought
But all my paints have turned a muddy gray
The shapes are wrong and all the faces smear
If all we are is built on all we’ve done
Then what am I when everything is gone?
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- CREATIVE WORKS: POETRY University of Alaska Anchorage Department of English