Shreds of Paper

Shreds of paper,
Marked 
With words of love and loss.
Fragments of memories,
Torn into ragged edges
And broken pieces,
Squeezed tightly
For far too long.
They are 
Sweat stained, 
Worn and rumpled.

Is that splinter
A reminder 
Of betrayal driven deep?
How can a small scrap
Weigh so heavily? 
Can they finally
Be ripped from the past?

With a deep breath
They are tossed away.
And jagged slivers 
Turn to silver
As shimmers of light
Dance and swirl,
A snow globe of memories
Coming unbounded
To take flight-
Finally free.

12/27/2020

Submerged

As I fall I become smaller,
But this isn’t Wonderland.
I suppose I should mind,
But instead I gaze
At pale hands.
How strange they are.
Those short fingers
Must be mine.
“Wiggle” I think.
I have no sense
That their movement
Belongs to me.
The emptiness,
Is too great to span.

In the distance,
I can hear wet sounds
I still have nightmares
Of being trapped
Under the surface.
I was one and a half
When I sank slowly,
To the bottom
Of a sunlit pool.
I was too young
To know death,
But the lonely,
Underwater world
Terrified me.
I believed I was lost
Forever.

The memories of drowning
Are as disconnected
As my stubby fingers.
I don’t grasp
Their meaning
As they flow past.
Even long ago,
When first submerged,
I didn’t flail.
Now I know to drift
In the emptiness
I’ve become.