When I shined a flashlight into my memory
What did I find?
Bits of conversation left behind
Warning signs and orange rinds
Stalagmites from the ceiling sharp
An angel’s harp
And turpentine
An easel with no painting on
A life that only just begun
Boxes high and boxes stacked
Of letters that had been sent back
Stagnant pools and leaky roofs
And rocking chairs in splinters now
Is what I found
With my little light.
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