Photo: Creative Commons
~
mind of mine
born in another
were this possible
would this poem be different
~
forgetting where I walk
not remembering your name
my million lapses in synapses
as unreliable as knowing where falling leaves land
would you be tinted in the same crimson colors
~
the same childhood fears
memories matured with time
dreams intact
words as natural
science as mysterious
layers of soil covering archeological artifacts
would you find the same
~
privilege re-matched to a skin
social circles redrawn in ovals
a home on a hill
where I see my former self without knowing him
would life be so different
~
though I can never know the possibility
my mind rests under a late afternoon sky
consciousness drifts into chaparral, into dry soil
beheaded with the thought of elsewhere
another plane
through another’s eyes
~
then red sun
I think to myself:
were this poem spoken
in other words
would it too end here
~
literophanes.com 