The Current - The Rivers School

The teacher said,
Go home and write
A page tonight.
And let that page come out of you—
Then, it will be true
I wonder if it’s that easy
I am seventeen, young, born in
St.Louis, Missouri
I moved to Washington, then Philly, then here
To a town near the city of Boston
Sometimes I miss our old houses
I visit them in my memories
Back down Washington St., to Philly
Then back to DC and on to St. Louie
Where I can find my way to Log Cabin Dr.
And then to house number fifty-five
Where I walk down the hall, turn left
And find my yellow room
Where I will sit down by the window, and write
No, it’s not simple to remember, not easy
At seventeen, my age. But I guess I recall what
I felt and saw and heard; my memories
I remember them, remember me
I remember, on this page
I hear them whisper to me, what
Well, childhood games and imaginary friends
Secret hiding places, hushed arguments
And favorite books—Dr.Seuss, Silverstein, and Berenstein Bears
I guess being old doesn’t keep me from remembering
Even though it all happened so very, very
Long ago.
So I wonder, who am I
Being me, am I not made of memory,
But of what will come to be
A part of me, made from past
It is gone, but not lost
Kept still, in my memory
That’s Human.
Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to remember
What has been.
Nor believe that our memories
Have shaped us, me and you
But they have, that’s true!
As we are shaped by them,
We also grow
Although we get older
We still remember who we are
Where we come from
Memories
This is my page for English AP
Summers Ford
Me and my memory
Elaina Bell
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