Meditations on memories… aka the 4th of July

Memories etched out in physical form.

Rocks. A Graveyard. Fireworks.

Monuments to old neighborhoods.

Sometimes I’m puzzled by what I remember and what I don’t.

What my stories are that I tell of who I am.

Of who I want to be.

The only certainty of it, is the memories I leave behind will not be my own.

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