A Memory In Savannah

A Memory In Savannah

Salt taffy strung out,
the cobblestone street,
and the river where a girl
waves at incoming boats.

Another day lonely
and Adrian with his dimes,
lips wet and waiting
outside the sweet shop.

This is the one thing
he wants, here, riverside
where the streets end
in steep stairs to the water.

The stairs, what cliffs
we once descended
to shop this old street
and smell the salt water.

And I’m in this memory
like a brother beside him
saying, watch the boats.
Wave while you can.

I am the stones smoothed
round by his crossing
without fear for cars,
stumbling, but walking

past statues and history.
Even children know
all rivers run into the sea,
yet the sea is not full.

The ships come home.
Adrian, turn around
and see what daily returns
from the oceans between us.

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Here's another poem out of my September poetry challenge. My friend and I got together and decided to write a poem using the other's common theme. Mine is "placelessness", while his is "change in perspective between adulthood and childhood. Hence, this poem is a take on the latter topic.

To anyone who has spent time in the main parts of Savannah, bits of this scene should stick out as coming from River Street there where they have a cobblestone street, a special sweet shop, and the statue of a girl waving to the boats coming off the intracoastal waterway.

In this poem, I try to insert myself into my own memory. I have several poems already involving Adrian and in each of them he represents my childhood self with past understanding. So in this poem I am both Adrian, the child, and I am also myself looking back on this memory. What I see as important now is different from what was important then. The cobbled stones represent to me the way that time shapes us from our rough selves into more polished products. The boats, the statues, the rivers, all have a connection with time and memory – some elements come and go, others stay, but are often overlooked, and still others keep on moving endlessly onwards. Time is like an ocean between me and my former self, and yet I am constantly reminded of the past and I try to learn from it now, whereas once I took it for granted.

That is only my interpretation of this poem; as with many poems of mine, I'm not always sure of the meaning, only the feeling. When I write poetry, usually I try to recreate a feeling first, only afterwards to I begin to go back and analyze the specifics of what I actually mean by each line. If you had a different interpretation while reading this, please let me know; I'm curious what your thoughts are.

Either way, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.