Thursday 9 June 2022

 

on memories made of stamps & wings :: ready, set, release

by Jen Schneider


i collect and carry memories like stamps, baseball cards, & coins. always in search of missing links. grateful for spontaneous interactions solidified in curious ways. moments stamped of dates that dance then disappear. streams of syllables on am radio. ice-cold lemonade on a blistering hot summer day, ten cents a pop. the memories wrap and warm, no matter the season. in thoughts heavy of daily duties. to-do lists regulated by predictable pings. the memories playful. partial to games of hide and seek. each memory applies rules and terms of its own making. colorful bouquets of butterfly weed and chinese lantern plants. bushels of daisies. coneflowers and red roses. pink tulips and yellow daffodils. quick, pluck then trim. inhale. consume scented layers – of life, love, and longing. some heavy like maple syrup. others sweet, with a tangy crunch. of freshly picked granny smith apples and autumn orchards. sometimes sour. unanticipated spice. double plays. invasive weeds. in small pockets of air where gusty winds blow. flowery fabrics – shimmery satins the color of blue jays, gentle cranes, and crafty crows. shadows linger in layers wrinkled of travel, trials, and time. testaments to the severity of the sometimes spontaneity of memories worn on and of shoulders. stretch, then lift, then breathe. settle and resettle. embrace flight. wings flaps. curious creatures chirp. a small mouse scurries across the attic floor. a family of birds stirs in a nest. new life awaits, ready to hatch, in wooden eaves. on the eve of a new dawn. memories continue to flutter. in shoeboxes. of broken text. of bruised luggage. on shoulders. 


ready. set. release. 

 
     1.   The oldest item you own
     2.   A souvenir
     3.   Something stored in a shoebox
     4.   The scent of memory
     5.   The flavor of memory
     6.   The sound of a favorite lyric
 

wings flap as cardboard boxes store __1__. time marches on as dust settles. on _2__ and _3__. baseballs clink metal bats. oils in palms and leather gloves glisten. lights cast soft glows and rainbow hues. air scented of __4__. breath flavored of __5__.  half-priced concert tickets curl. damp lyrics kiss parched lips. a blade of dried grass brush lashes.  __6__ blanket shoulders heavy of memory. wings flap. ready. set. release. in flight.


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Jen Schneider is an educator who lives, writes, and works in small spaces throughout Pennsylvania. Recent works include A Collection of Recollections, Invisible Ink, On Habits & Habitats, and Blindfolds, Bruises, and Breakups.

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