My memory is red wrapping paper

crinkled at the corners.

It has a tear in the side

where the glittering star

meets the tangle top prints of evergreens

and frosted snow.

My memory is bits and pieces

held together with tape.

It was wrapped by a child –

steaming mug of cocoa by their side

with three ice cubes, melting glaciers

bouncing off the marshmallows.

My memory scratches the backs of my hands –

wooly mitten remembering.

It crackles like a fireplace,

sends a shiver as fingertips across the base of my hair,

hot coal alms pouring from its mouth

into my waiting, empty hands.

© Laura A. Lord, 2020

Thank you to MindLoveMisery for the prompt.

6 thoughts on “Memory

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