MEMORY ORPHANS

memories walk odd in gossamer shadows
from tea trees 
and conifer
and
what i saw there in the dappled puddles
and
what you saw there on the bleached kerbs
can never agree

memories walk odd like orphans
like i dreamt them
and grafted them onto photo's
or 
made them up on a bad hangover saturday
covered in gin sweat and horror
and
tho
maybe
wrong and created in blank solitude
i encourage them to haunt me
afraid of . . . WHATEVER . . .
if
i
let
them go