I built a wall
of people and events.
A wall with no gaps,
no spaces in between.
A solid space;
lives and words intersecting,
connected and entwined.
To separate one is to pull others loose
until the whole topples in a heap.

I built a wall;
quite by accident –
not by design.
It is inside me.

I built a wall:
not to keep things out
nor to keep things in,
but to remember
Because I really don’t want to forget.

I built a wall,
but I would rather it be a cairn –
a monument of remembrance.
Of people;
of a place;
of a time in my life that was unique –
and short.

I’ll build a cairn.
I’ll take the stones of the wall
and separate them;
look at them carefully
and rearrange them into something beautiful.