Calling My Name

In the sandbox of my memory

reasons come and go

Castles worn in corners scorned

left without a moat


Granulated laughter

idle unreleased

Waiting for a last return

covered over deep


The jungle gym sits dormant

a mass of rusted links

One ring missing ladder gone

the rope swing short and kinked


The teeter totter frozen

its pivot rusted tight

The sliding board a one-way trip

fading into night


The sandbox of my memory

where feelings go to die

My childhood friends whose echo’s rend

timeless bye and bye


Still one last voice is buried

deep within the grains

The one I shunted until now

—calling out my name


(The New Room: August, 2022)


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