
Spotify:
Remember to scroll down to the appropriate audio episode.
Memory
Marigolds, Oaxacan flowers
grown to guide the dead,
leave so many memories at my door.
Milk bottles placed on the concrete step:
every morning, sparrows peck holes
in the silver tops to drink the cream.
Memory:
its once open door
now slowly closes.
Keys no longer turn in the lock.
Sleep gathers in forgotten rooms,
falling like dust on silken flowers.
Shadows double themselves in the mirror:
recycled shades carve the shower’s glass.
Wary of shade and flame I bathe beneath
a dust-laden beam of sunlight.
Motes in my mind:
flesh and blood chessmen
playing their game
on checkered boards of day and night.
Wonderful!
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Thanks, Tiffany. Have you tried listening to the reading on Spotify? Let me know what you think about it, if you do.
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Funny you asked! I just literally got signed back in to my husbands account today, so I am able to access Spotify again, yay! I look forward to listening to you there soon!
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Us Welsh poets: we know when something is happening elsewhere in the world. I am from the same town as Dylan Thomas and my accent and rhythm are a little bit like his.
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