Elephant Graveyard

On my repeated migrations
I always seem to stop
To fondle the bones
My lost childhood
My lost son
And cry.
An elephant never forgets
But I try.
I migrate to getting past the past
Back to trying to forget
And mourning all the while.
So I migrate from one watering hole 
To the next.
Remembering the toxic ones
Remembering the drought.
And still I migrate,
And still I migrate.

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