Barnacles
In my mind my memory has accumulated souvenirs
Of the places I have been to in the past
Each one is like a tiny crystal ball
When remembered attentively
They can show a story
I recall a person's face, a landscape, a conversation
Some special instance, most anything
And then listen to my thoughts narrate
What has happened before
I am reminded of old wooden ships' bottoms under water
That after many voyages become encrusted with barnacles
Barnacles like I have seen on the sea rocks
Closed up tight in the air
Waiting for the tide to return and cover them
What a wonderful way to live for a creature
On the bottom of a ship sailing along
With tiny feathery catchers outstretched
To gather microscopic plankton
Barnacles are a nuisance to a ship
They slow it down by making the hull rough
Are my memories like barnacles? Perhaps a little
Some are surely a nuisance
Others I do not want to part with
If not for forgetfulness which keeps them in balance
My awareness would be all covered with them.
DolphinWords
Note: Wrote this out like in early seventies...my poems then, and still:), are very flat and matter of fact...thing is, when I read words, they are very vivid to me, and I just expect the reader has the same experience...so I don't embellish, use Latin/Romance Language derived words...prefer the one or two syllable anglo/saxon ones...this one could use a lot of rework...posted it up without its punctuation, which is first thing to edit...I could write kids' books!...and a post is in the works, Crystal Ball, which will have some take aways from this little poem!
:)
DavidDavid
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