A Pyramid of Memories

by Tom Bajoras

I’m building a pyramid, stone by stone.
Since before my first memory,
I’ve been building it alone.

Its foundation rests on solid rock,
but sand now covers
everywhere I’ve ever walked.

the structure grows,
each level imperceptibly
smaller than the one below.

On level 2 I was taught
what is right and what is wrong.
On level 10 I decided where my life would go;
much higher up I saw where it had gone.

Until I got to 70
I disregarded gravity.
But on levels above 71
It’s hard to breathe with failing lungs.

Standing on the top, I see
pyramids in the distance rise.
At my command, we march as one,
declaring war against the sky.

Out of the unlikeness, out of the mist,
each pyramid narrows to a point,
and beyond that point
we’ve only dreamed what might exist.