Change and forgotten memories dwell within the fortress of transformation.
loss is our own, yet resides there as well
within it's stone walls and dazzling tapestry.
This place doesn't keep anything to itself.
like a missile fired from a catapult in it's bastion
memories spiral and sputter out of control
and land around us
in it's perfect circle
Original poem:
Losing too is still ours; and even forgettingstill has a shape in the kindgdom of transformation.
When something's let go of, it circles;
and though we arerarely the centerof the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous curve.
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Your poem is really well structured. It balances and unbalances itself. I love the contrasting ideas about the fortress. Gorgeous.
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