poetry by j matthew waters

imperfect memory

like stepping on a shard of glass
buried in the shag
childhood memories come
back to life one snippet at a time

I borrow my sister’s white figure skates
tie the laces together & strap
them over my shoulder
head out on foot to the city park
where the ice is six feet thick
and the weather favorable

round & round everyone seemed to go
I racing faster than any of them
crossing foot over foot around the turns
hands held together at my lower back

everyone seems so happy
and I begin to believe that I am too

february two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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4 thoughts on “imperfect memory

  1. Since I grew up in rural Alaska, I would go out into the muskeg and there would be flat icy areas with little mossy hummocks sticking up here and there. I would walk with my ice skates like you until I found a suitable section, also carrying a thermos of hot tang and a snow shovel. Once there, I’d put on my skates and clear off the ice, making trails all around the muskeg hills. Good memories… trying to escape. Sometimes I would just take a book or lay in the snow looking into the sky… looking and looking and looking.

  2. i wish it were that easy…

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