Posts Tagged ‘Derrida’

There was always room to play.
I remember it distinctively,
it was mid May
and the rocks flew from under my sneakers.
Now the image of a jungle gym
always makes these boats
sunken from age buoyant again.
I pass it in the park every day
the kids look like prisoners
and stare with their backlit eyes
while I make my way.
I make my way
as if it has never been made
as if it is not mere habit.
No memory will arise,
no image connected, to
make me remember this way,
just the echoing jungle gym
and the prospects of next May.


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