Looking for more clues of timing, and what was going on
when I wrote those plays and stories in school,
obsessed with figuring out who I was back then.
A puzzle with pieces here and there.
Some fit. Some don’t.
At times it seems there is more than one picture here.
Memories I no longer recognize,
stories that don’t have the same story line.
Maybe it’s a make-your-own-as-you-go puzzle,
some pieces will not fit and some will be left over,
and some spaces won’t have pieces in them.
Maybe that’s just the way it will be.
© 1993 Sharron R. McMillan