Atelier

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Untitled Poem circa 2001

When it rains

and floods the plains

of my familiar,

I am bombarded with

puzzle-pieced collages

shatter-dreamed masterpieces

painted pictures of a past that was

but never will

be.

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Why did it just take me 20 minutes to find a photograph of myself on my computer? I just sifted through hundreds (perhaps thousands) of photographs of my children-carefully captured and curated moments of their lives. When it hit me, who is capturing my life?

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I’ve changed yet Starbucks caramel sauce has not.

Chasing the feeling Starbucks gave me umpteen years ago when I was a fresh-faced high schooler addicted to caramel mochas. Back when “going to Starbucks” was akin to seeing a Broadway play-something the “cultured” people did. On the weekends. Out of town.

The only thing that brings it back clearly is the taste of Starbucks caramel sauce which amazingly has stayed consistent all these years. Thank you Starbucks for providing a sensory anchor for my scattered memories.