Tonight's Poet Corner: Memory & Me
Memory & Me by Belinda Roddie I have captured moments in amber. Not just the happy or sentimental ones; also the ones with teeth marks on them, with bruises and scrapes. I don't always remember if I've locked the door of my classroom, and I have to trudge my way back across campus just so I can feel the cold, stiff beak of the door knob refuse to squawk. But I remember the time I somersaulted over the handlebars of my bicycle when I was thirteen, tattooing both my hands with canvassed scars. I remember the first time I felt dirty water splash against my knees on the river rafting ride at Great America - I think I was eight years old, or maybe I was nine. I remember when I was definitely eight years old, and I accidentally drank an entire cup of bright purple fluoride at the dentist's office, and I had to keep the rising bile down so I didn't projectile vomit in my mother's neon green Dodge minivan. The first memory I have is of me at age...