In my memories I live in a thousand countries counted by unnumbered years, <br />Book spread they ring of an imagination redolent with vitality <br />Touched with the reality of tumescent afternoons <br />When in Malia I kissed the creten-Spanish sun, <br />In Graz when I sped the Slovanik mountains, <br />Paris, when I lost my heart on the Seine on a non taken ride <br />And in Normandy when with family I bestrode the harvester <br />When I sneezed with the corn's blossom. <br />All these places punctured the wells of being <br />And made me inflate with bodily pride. <br />No more they seek me, or I them; my disposition tells me the lies <br />Of how they betrayed the coursing of the veins <br />And left my mind an empty space where everything I know has died.<br /><br />David Levitas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memories-of-place/
