new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Oh, that's an intense image!
"Intense" because it remains very close to home; for reasons still inexplicable to me, I have no clear memories of the first four years of my life in Greece before being taken to the USA; I find myself wondering why.
I expect it might be a deeper form of memory — something that resides in the sinews and bones. At the same time, the poem feels like a memory of my own. Shared memory? Memory held in common?
Very earthy image
It's an all too common memory for males in any culture, I imagine. "Playing war." War always "a stone's throw away," all of us working back toward Frost's "old-stone savage armed"....