by 
Memory separates us
It’s the root of our great divide
We were born in the same space
at the same time
Your recollections are misty with soft edges and water colors
backlit with sunshine and mint juleps
My memories are soaked with the sounds of fear and rage
underscored by the persistent melody of bitterness
with only two colors-
Black and White
We existed in the same space, at the same time
yet
our memories are not reconciled
they exist on different planes
Mine want you to look
We need you to see
but
your memories, so precious to you
will die
unless you stop denying the truth of mine
You tire of my need
convinced that my weakness is the problem
Wishing that I would just be quiet
You exhaust your strength
seeking imaginative ways to rearrange the past
so that the present is squarely on me
Do you ever grow weary?
Ask me
I am weary all the time
My scars are old, but still fresh
Unless you decide to remember how I got them
WE can’t be healed
Until then
Your memory will continue to betray us both
(monica d.)
by
This is so insightful.
Thank you!
Powerful poem. I hope it’s meaning will hit home to deniers of our country’s historical truths. Truth & reconciliation – powerful concepts for universal healing.
Amazing Poem! It’s like a Psalm for today’s challenges. The photo is perfect in showing how we can be in the same park, but have two completely different views. Thus, two completely different experiences of the same location and moment in time. For each side to sit on the same bench together seems as impossible as it would be for these figures cast-in-stone to suddenly speak truths aloud and have us all agree to their historical interpretations. If we continue to refuse to unite for the sake of saving our democracy for future generations – than I fear we’ll miss our glorious day in the park. We will be shut off in our silos with fear of the person with a different view.
I love your eloquence and your perspective. I appreciate you taking the time to share.