National Poetry Month, Day 20 | Chris Sartain & Carolyn Riker
April 20, 2021
Photo by Chris Sartain
Childhood Memories
Carolyn Riker
Those memories
the color of a Polaroid
taken from a short distance
still remain unclear.
Were the memories real
was the house that shaken
did the floorboards creak
in a certain anticipation?
Those known footsteps
a heaviness,
stomping, deliberately
hesitating at each door.
How do those memories
remain present in the
corners of yesteryear
as if they are still here?
Curious, young, excusing
the weight on tiny shoulders
carries the silent shivers
‘till tears appear.
Dusty memories noticed.
Triggered by a scent,
a voice, the free hang
of a swing lifts hope.
Stay detached
from memory’s eye
clutch the edges
as the Polaroid dries.
Swing slightly higher
pretend to have wings
eyes closed, heart opened
heals those memories.