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The place I carry
like a camel’s hump
so enmeshed it is in memory.
Details like the floral wallpaper
the pitch of a stair tread creak
a familiar rumble of water pipes
wind whistling past my window –
all of it stored behind my skull.
Once a farm house on a country lane,
it was swallowed by a city,
its gardens turned to islands in the concrete,
chickens still clucking in the yard.
It was my life, my childhood world
that vanished like a dream,
turned to landfill and chimney smoke.
Sharon Scholl is a retired college teacher (Humanities) who convenes a poetry critique group and maintains a website, freeprintmusic.com, that donates her compositions to small Libeal churches. Her poetry collections, Seasons, Remains,Classifieds, Ghosts, are availabe via Amazon Books. Her poems are current in Sligo Press and Sea Crow Press periodicals.


