Remembrance
The heart grows fonder.
*
Blueberry ice cream
and playing marbles.
*
Yes, Virgina,
we were all children
once.
*
Clapped hands
make a noise, but
one?
*
The heart grows
like a weed.
*
Ring around the roses,
pocket full of posies,
ashes, ashes,
we all fall down.
*
Falling and falling,
but never all the way
down.
*
The heart grows
fragile tendrils
seeking source.
*
Can it be
otherwise?
*
Hopscotch was never
just a game.
*
We drew chalk outlines
of our bodies
against the wall.
*
The heart grows cold,
silent, lost amid
the detritus of youth.
*
What have I become
that marbles
no longer matter?
*
And blueberry ice cream,
turning the crank
by hand.
*
The heart grows fonder.
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