In 2021, my Nana’s  50-acre farm was split by a major highway. I wrote this poem as kind of a break up letter to my memories of her farm.

I remember

I remember the warm, golden sun                        

Its yellow arms wrapped like

a veil surrounding me 

I remember the ivory sand

That ivy and weeds overtook

That sand in which we searched for glass

Eyes turned to spy glasses

our curious hands sifting through

You told me my bright blue shards

Had once held a burst of lightning

And I examined it in awe

I remember the graveyard

Where I stood with wettened cheeks

As I’d never met 

Who laid there

I remember the magnificent tree

Whose other-wordly gaze 

Made us feel something we didn’t understand 

And we called it ours

I remember the pond

Where Remi played with soiled paws

That searched for a yellow tennis ball

And you would shout for him to get out

So he wouldn’t get muddy

But I remember most 

When with a ghostly crash

Our sugary sweet memories 

Became

Memories

A highway ran through our

Magnificent tree

Severing us from your graveyard

And with it our peace

Piling the dirt my sweet Remi fertilized

Somewhere…

I don’t remember

Verdent grasses turned ashy concrete

Remind us 

That nothing lasts forever