04 June 2006

Sunday Scribblings: Earliest Memory

My earliest memories
Were like shards of glass.
They pricked me
When I swallowed them
As first experience
And they shredded my esophagus
Each time I threw up a piece
As verbal remembrance.
Years of spewing bile
Have allowed me to rid myself of them
And all that is left
Are pretty glass stones
That I buffed and polished
And gladly share.

--Dani Sanders, 04 Jun 06

5 comments:

paris parfait said...

Wow! What a beautiful, provocative and bittersweet poem!

Amber said...

This is so, so powerful! Wow. You used so few words, but I read a life's story in them...And I relate. The part about bringing them back up in order to heal oneself-- so true, and painful, and nessesary. Good for you!
Wonderful!!

:)

Colorsonmymind said...

This poem says so much-more than a million different memories.

albina said...

Beautiful and potent.

AscenderRisesAbove said...

i missed this one earlier. a wonderful poem; i enjoyed how the words turned to polished stones. amazing. thanks for sharing.