I harbor, not hashtag memories
moments now losing their filagree
in a latticework of rot dry dock
a port whose purpose is past

and fast is the fade from
particular
to a pedestrian walk back
of run-of-the-mill cache

and perish the pride
that can’t prevent
that erasure of clay
that made one’s
heyday,

anyway..

2 Replies to “BROKE THE MOLD”

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