​Rumination

These things linger

They hold space in a room

Even more in my mind

The sounds of mourning doves

A long-forgotten camera that my mother misplaced when she left

The scar on my eyelid from where they glued it back together after a fight

They are sand in mesh

Every so often, memories slip through at odd moments

Washing hair

Brushing teeth

A bike ride to work

They are my passengers

My mind a television screen observing past perspectives

Sitting still, they pass piece by piece like the alignment of threads in a tapestry