Position:Home>Poetry> You ever believe that things can hold memories?

Please give me your analysis of the following poem, and any constructive criticism!. It IS a work in progress (as so many of 'em are) and I will listen!. You just gotta trust me on that!.

Carved In Wood

I remember when I first moved in!.
I was still just a small sapling-of-a-tree;
The house smelled of fresh saw dust somewhat,
And the yard was big enough I could grow free!.

I remember the chimney catching fire,
And what a daze that blaze put me in!.
I wasn’t the same for along time after that,
But I ended up growing stronger from within!.

I remember the tree-house and the friends:
They thought I was cool, so they all hung around!.
Twenty-seven different pets and their shoe-boxes—
Their bones and marbles—later would be found!.

The sweet magnolia that once lived next door,
And the old garage that used to be at the end of the drive!.
Those were the days—back’n I’s hard as an oak and strong,
Not falling apart and favoring my one side!.

Times are a lot different now!. All the kids are gone;
There’s no one to rake up the leaves!.
Not much left, but
The memories!.


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