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Tim Cantor, 2007

This memory is faint so it’s one I’ve never told

Sometimes dreams and truth

Are hard to hold

For in this memory

I was merely three years old

There were buildings and trees where it began

Tossed in the heart of a bustling park

I heard a noise like something from a band

The memory goes dark

When I lost my mother’s hand

Was I feeling chaos

Or just fear

My family was lost

And in those moments, my mind was unclear

This state of affairs made visions appear

I saw my black paws covered in frost

A swathe of white stone where roots should have shown

I was a creature ungrown

Destined now

To walk alone

A child’s brain invents such sadly thoughts

Unable to decipher

Between straight rope and knots

In seconds my future and my life

Strayed to tales

With such unfortunate plots

So there it is

A flash in time that survives at my core

My first memory

A nightmare turned splendor that taps at my door

Both fear and bliss

As I felt the touch of my mother’s hand

Once more

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