MAPS AS PROOF-arlene s bice©
Every now and then
I’ll sit on the floor after dragging down
the pile of maps folded on my bookshelf.
These are the rainy-afternoons-do-you-remember-when-maps.
I don’t buy souvenirs
but I save my maps, some worn others not
emoting moments, some seeking a thing not found
others of finding surprises-quite-unexpected-but-joyfully-held.
Maps are my proof.
I’ve stepped out of the mold, leaving behind
my mother’s daughter; creating my own true self
And I’ll continue
to travel on roads new to me, soaking in
the atmosphere of another’s world, seeing it differently
then I will be making a deposit-in-the-bank-of-memories-for-a-rainy-day.