Home » Poetry » Memories are

Memories are

Memories

are brutal

in their infancy,

much more

beautiful in

their adolescence,

yet quite more

honest

in their maturity

are memories

bound to our being

like shadows cast

on a garden wall

where a rose bush

bent, stands crutched

to a stake of wood,

delicate are it’s thorns

our memories

they too are.

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