looking back
at this new life resting comfortably
on the rumpled laundry basket of the old one
what memories lie waiting to be washed away
like all the quiz show answers I used to know
yet remaining as set in stains
on t-shirts that don’t fit
built up in layers
like archaeological strata
ready to be studied
or looted like tombs
for lost treasures of the past
to be put on display
for the multitudes to gawk
at what I used to be
best forgotten
I rub grit from my eyes
washed up by storms
in my un-ended dreams
where ghosts still try
to teach me
lessons best forgotten
lost
vanished
hidden beneath wildflowers
and memories
not of things said
but things done
rightly
no matter the words
burned like incense
on the altar
to a god unknown
that hides
beyond sleep
in the dark matters
that sob their sorrows
in verses
I will never hear
save in my dreams
stars
when I grow old
will I learn the names of stars
if any can still be seen
in street astronomy
or will I remember
the multitudes
that there were
when I was but a child
with all the names I
never knew
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