A Memory-Postcard

And so I work my way into (or around) the fourteener.

The Great Flood

This is from the day when I knew the coin had two faces,
both the same, both yours. On that day, my final doubts shattered:
unhinged, my heart slipped out of its cave and, hitting the bridge,
became a river which became a flood. Pillars went down.
Had I not had newly-forged memories, I would have drowned,
so strong was the current of your answers which I didn’t want.