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I remember the nights we slept with fires in our belly,
And how grandma wore agony like a crown.
In my memory,

The hoots of owls remind of sinister
Lurking behind the blanket of darkness,
That spreads over the tint of gory childhood.

Of sandcastles and toys painted on canvas,
Signed by the footprints of departing parents
And the echoes of unforgettable voices.

I'd stand with my shirt billowing in the wind like a kite.
"Grandmother, where is my mother?"
"Who is my father?"

She flashed twelve cuspids with the color of tobacco,
Feigning courage as she performed her usual magic,
Deep down we knew;
The rain of uncertainty would fall again!

The only street I don't like to walk
is down Memory Lane,
Where the voices of ravens caw from furry trees.

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stanza four first line it is a little difficult to understand this line
your last stanza is all that need to be said ,it is well put and goes stright to ones heart

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for that line, would be: "My shirt billowing in the wind like a kite." ~ Geezer.

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Hello, Drey,
Very moving poetry, the last stanza is incredible.
Thank you,

A beautiful write you have here indeed.

Your third stanza being just quite amazing, the feelings of a child who has lost their parents is raw yet so very beautifully written into words.
I too stumbled on the kite lines, but I see Geezer has come to your rescue and his lines make so much more sence. I hope you choose to use those they will bring this poem to a very special status.
A heart felt look through the eyes of any child who is yearning for their parents

Thank you...Teddy


Thanks everyone!


author comment

...very much:
"The only street I don't like to walk
is down Memory Lane,
Where the voices of ravens caw from furry trees"

Don't know why, but it's very memorable and furry too I suppose.

Poet(ess) to the Stars

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