Childhood Memory Poem

I have a memory

Of a television screen dropping from a wall

To project an image of a collapsing tower

The screen lit with red, black and grey

My blotched pink toddler hands gripped a net made out of twisted rope

As I gazed upon a gathering of people, a clump of individuals

Bound together by grief.

I have a memory of being at my grandparents’ house

Waiting expectantly for my parents to come back

(Even though I did not even know they were gone)

I stood by the door

Silent. Alone.

Until I saw a limp hand on my mother’s belly,

Her eyes ringed with pink, her cheeks wet.

I did not understand back then

That I was no longer going to be a big sister.

It’s funny how my memories of grief are the strongest ones I have

But have also swallowed up entire years of my existence

As if grief is the only reason

I have memories

But also forgotten them.