TOUCHSTONE
ART LIT ABOUT SUSTAINABILITY STAFF

Our excursion may have occurred in spring, but it probably

was it’s cusp. Were we riding a bus or one of those

 

bad-tempered school mini-vans? That’s the trouble

about this memory being so ancient, the years make

 

moments difficult to evoke. You nor I will ever

excavate the entirety of the truth, but I do

 

recollect certain snippets: taking

pictures of little bro-

 

ken plates, cataloguing memories

which are now antiques, and sifting

 

through dirt and discussions, perhaps

even through bone and glass. I should

 

ask you which words and altered truths

have grasped hold to the recesses of your mind

 

of the day with possible snow. I recall that we

went off to observe because of class requirements

 

and we aspired to be archaeologists. Well,

time is different now.

 

I have uncovered the possibility of the more suitable

vocation of writing, and you

 

are off at some other university, discovering

some other impossible future.

IVY
KING

WE ASPIRED

Poetry

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