Poem: False Memories

False Memories

I am always surprised

by the childhood

memories that creep

into the corners

of my mind.

 

They are hazy

memories, cloudy

memories, memories of

a pair of shoes

I owned or that,

once, I loved

reading mysteries.

 

I shift them,

roll them around,

but they don’t fit

quite right,

as though the

original image

has become

distorted, a caricature

of what existed

before.

 

These are not

my memories.

They belong to

someone else.

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