Memories

Memories build cities, they live inside us,

in you in me,

neighborhoods where we tuck in the safe ones

kiss their foreheads,

shut and lock the front doors

and keep them carefully,

keep them there.

Dusty dirty roads in pleasant countryside,

with cool blue hills and morning dew

and sometimes wandering thoughts roam

looking for somewhere that used to be home.

And deep-ocean wells, holding fears they won't tell

of first love's heartbreak, or under-bed monsters or simply the idea

of mom growing old.

They’ve built kingdoms for memories

adorned in velvet and that backyard

where you used to catch ladybugs,

where you were once a queen,

a doctor one day, and somedays

just happily yourself.