The Memory Lot

We stood out here, and I was breathing mist;
The top of my head belt high to my father,
Touching trees, the feel of sap on hands,
My older sister standing by the barrel fire
Warming her hands as the high school boys eye her
From safe within letterman jackets

Radio within the tent of purchase,
Feliz Navidad playing in limited fidelity

I didnt understand the selection criteria,
i just knew it took too long

I can still feel the cold,
Smell the trees and the fire,
See the scene and tbe actors

For fewer copies of the scene

Are left, everyday

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

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