where do your memories go?

Where do your memories go?

Snatched by rodents that creep in the night,
Or the bellies of cats that tame the rodent blight?
Down the hole at the creek where stones forever fall,
Or the pipe in the basement that peeks from the wall?
Do they hide beneath leaves when the eaves fill with rain,
Or slip out of view on a boxcar train?

Well, I made you a new one today at the lake
With a pebble, a toad and a green bellied snake.
I left it with you by the old porch swing,
But the drink in your hand may have clipped its wings.
It was good I think, as far as memories go,
Nearly as good as that pig with no nose.
But you lost that too as I now recall,
He was in the carnival tents that arrived last fall.

Where do your memories go?

Perhaps they are waiting for you out there,
In a stump, or a trunk or the cushion of your chair.
The one where you sit with a drink in your hand,
Sour on life and the ways of the land.
I think you will find them if you look one day,
Because none of mine have gone away.



I wrote that half asleep a few months ago over morning coffee and just stumbled across it again. Not sure where the undercurrent came from honestly. I was pleased with how it turned out though. I think I was inspired by watching Neil Gaiman read The Day The Saucers Came. Video/audio isn’t great, but the poem is.


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