Forgotten Memories
North Chesterfield, VA
2021, Junior, Poetry & Spoken Word
Listen, child.
Let me tell you a story,
A tale about the time before
Before we had forgotten,
Back when the ocean was blue
And the seagulls skimmed the glassy waves,
Shrieking as they flew.
They used to dip down a wingtip
To scrape the crest of a sapphire swell
And rise again to soar into the sky
Circling like a carousel.
A feather might fall down, and rest atop the waves
To float there for a moment
Before ‘twas swept away.
The seagulls now have flown away
In search of a kinder shore
But their feathers still bear memories
Of days spent long ago.
Do you remember, child,
What I told you once before?
The story I spun for you one night
Of the ocean’s treasure store?
The sea remembers, little one,
It holds all memories,
A seagull’s feather, a bottled note,
All members in its treasury.
Why do you think we used to hold
Shells up to our ears?
Every shell holds a whisper-breath
Of the sea that used to be.
I used to walk upon the sand,
Before our oil turned it black.
I watched my footprints disappear
Whenever I glanced back.
The sea rose up to claim the marks
My feet pressed into the shore
With a rushing swoop and a foaming breath
They were taken to the treasure store.
You’ll never know what it was like, my child,
To walk beside the sea.
There are no more shells to hold to your ear
To hear the waves crash free
But the sea remembers the time before,
And it keeps safe
All the forgotten memories.
Reflection
Reflection
This poem encapsulates how our ocean is fading away, out of our oily, grasping hands. I wrote it in the voice of a grandmother telling her grandchild about how the ocean used to be. Her eyes are backlit by memories of how she used to walk on the beach, watch seagulls fly, and listen to seashells. Her granddaughter will never push footprints into the sand, on account of the oil, or even see a seashell, let alone hold one to her ear. The seagulls have flown away, so that, too, is a loss the grandmother laments. I play with the idea that the sea takes care of humanity by saving our memories for us. The grandmother mentions the "ocean's treasure store" to her grandchild, telling her about the feathers, footprints, and bottled notes the ocean takes below the waves. We leave so much on our shores, and the ocean takes it all. Not only footprints and sand castles, but cigarette butts, broken bottles, and plastic bags as well. From a fantastical standpoint, the sea takes all of this so that our earth has it a little easier. Aside from poetical theories, we do depend on the ocean in a huge way.