Poems ✍️

~Memories Of Childhood Are Sometimes Only Knowledge Later Learned


I remember, I remember the day that I was born.
“How’s that, ” you say, “impossible.” the tale
My sister would relate and then regale
Me with the details of the scar she’s worn.
Most vivid are the memories reborn
From countless tellings o’er the family plate.
We both would beg our mother to relate
How on that fated night before the morn-
I was newborn and sister not a year-
The boiling pot she’d tipped upon her back
So that we shared each cry, each wail, each tear.
Still are the memories so vivid that
The scar she bore for me made her more dear.
Some memories are knowledge kept most clear.