Scratches
Like so many stones rolling in a creek
Visions from the past mix and tumble through my mind
Scratching at a memory
Trying to uncover what may lie beneath the price tag
The past now a yard sale where bits and pieces are constantly marked down
They're yours for the asking and come with no guarantees
Each just another scratch in the fresco
painted somewhere deep inside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem