By Smita Vyas Kumar
It can't be too hard
to forget or to cage.
Memories are like shards
of glass, tearing apart
curtains brittle with age.
It can't be too hard
to speed up or retard
the cleaning of old rage.
Memories are like shards
or daggers sharp
piercing through a page.
It can't be too hard
to erase or rewrite,
or for that matter, recreate.
Memories are like shards
of mosaics past—
a future to arrange or break.
It can't be too hard.
Memories are like shards.