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Ella Sueno
Every grain of sand
Becomes a pigment of memory
A memory becomes captured
In the lens of a mothers camera
A speck of light gleams through
The walls of molten sand while
the fire in the hearth is its
only competitor
The feeling,
Exhilarating
Woozy
Stomach churning
High
Cotton balls in a jar
Play the role as a cloud
For my dancer from
Grandma when I was five
Memories have been stowed
Away by the prettiest pack
Rats
With gilded harnesses and
Booted paws
The wind acting as a
Tranquilizer
It wakes me up from my
Over dose of anesthesia
From a moonlight cloaked jar
With a cork on top.
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