Edward Domings

Digging Up Memories

A Hawaiian summer day on the slope of the Berkshires
Where birds symphonically scream and waves crash ashore
From water crafts ripping through the glistening glass water.

Strolling on a warm golden beach to stop and turn around
And find instead of a beach, a cold swampy overgrown forest.

Passing the flowers and bushes as I approach the house
I spot a butterfly majestically fluttering around the bush.
I continue on a few steps, stop again and turn around
And find the flowerbed transformed to an accumulation of woodchips.

I walk upon the rich green grass over to the hammock to rest under the heat lamp sun.
Heading across the grass I find myself moving uneasily, stop and turn around
Seeing myself walk on stones, twigs and mud and notice the mountainous mass of loam.
I slither onto the hammock and rest like a dog after a long chase, only to fall on my face
And see the hammock still wrapped in the original packages up against the house.

Sprinting into the house I discover no one but an abandoned home,
I darted out the front door to stop and turn around and peeking back inside
And observe paint and spackling peeling and ripping from the walls.

Welding, wiring, piping, grinding and cutting instead of building, tearing apart
Amazed by the unbelievable and spectacular sight, to turn around
And look outside and find a quick changing environment
From red neck heat to snot freezing cold and back again, watching years fly by.

Men appear breaking their backs over stones, bricks and wood
All for a hole that will hold, like a dog’s bone, memories that will never exist
And then as I walk up the road I stop and turn around and find
The end of the road and an untamed forest in place of the hole, on top of memories


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.