brick by brick
I’ve seen the future unfold
like a flower without a name
like a child without a home
the recent past soon enough
becomes all but translatable
like a familiar foreign language
like a lost memory
resurfacing
inside someone else’s dream
this road has been lowered
only to be risen time and again
each time you are there in some
shape or form
sometimes dragging the dirt
other times on your hands and knees
paving the way
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
memories like bricks,
mortar of mortality
very wistful poem
Thank you for commenting on this piece, Denise.
Wooh… and so time goes
Yes, indeed it does.
“each time you are there in some
shape or form
sometimes dragging the dirt
other times on your hands and knees
paving the way”
Love.
Thank you very much.
I like this. It’s vivid and relatable.
Are you familiar with the blog “imaginary garden with real toads”? Tuesdays are open share. This would be cool to add to the list if you’re interested.
Thank you for your comments, Justin. I’m not familiar with ‘imaginary garden with real toads’ but I will certainly check it out.