04-28-2016, 08:50 PM
What A Loss
Memory goes down a lane
and gets lost. The folds of the brain
begin to smooth out and memory finds
nothing familiar to follow although
there was a woman who studied
the action of ripples in sand and water.
No one remembers her much
except some historians who store their memories
in books, presumably.
Down the lane are secret folds
inside of which whole worlds are tucked
never to be found except
by the wandering who may be lost
but who can still discover
what they stumble upon.
If it were water instead
nothing at all would remain
unless someone remembered it
and even then
what? Oh.
It is more like shapes in sand.
It looks permanent
but only for a moment or a day
and then a wind blows
every shape away.
She found rules, though.
People use them now
as if they always knew them
like we know how
to open our eyes.
Memory is useless to us
here.
Once there were castles
built in minds who held
long tales of our kind.
That was memory when memory
was king. But who
remembers that time?
Sand blows according
to secret laws
which decree for all ephemera
obliteration in the end.
Memory goes down a lane
and gets lost. The folds of the brain
begin to smooth out and memory finds
nothing familiar to follow although
there was a woman who studied
the action of ripples in sand and water.
No one remembers her much
except some historians who store their memories
in books, presumably.
Down the lane are secret folds
inside of which whole worlds are tucked
never to be found except
by the wandering who may be lost
but who can still discover
what they stumble upon.
If it were water instead
nothing at all would remain
unless someone remembered it
and even then
what? Oh.
It is more like shapes in sand.
It looks permanent
but only for a moment or a day
and then a wind blows
every shape away.
She found rules, though.
People use them now
as if they always knew them
like we know how
to open our eyes.
Memory is useless to us
here.
Once there were castles
built in minds who held
long tales of our kind.
That was memory when memory
was king. But who
remembers that time?
Sand blows according
to secret laws
which decree for all ephemera
obliteration in the end.