A Foreign Memory
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Jasmine Phan, Grade 10
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Poetry
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2021
he handed me a brochure
about the dollhouse-like town i grew up in,
and i took it from him graciously.
the map inside like the remnants of an ash bin.
i know this street, but not the name.
they all look the same to me now;
the children still sneer and tease
but their accents are veiled in the sough.
wanderlust consumes my bones
amongst the jagged cliffside by the sea.
forever, the country road stretches,
and i have nowhere better to be.