Oneself

Your memory sits on my soil.
Like a stone monument, I cannot move it.
Like a stone monument, I cannot deface or raze it.
I cannot dig up the ground on which it stands.
But I shall let the ivy grow over it;

I will reclaim all of me.

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Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at https://redgladiola.wordpress.com

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