01-18-2018, 12:22 AM
Mistaken Fear
I used to think Mom and Dad
had something on me:
remembering how crass,
how know-it-all
their offspring had been,
not to mention certain
embarrassing experiments.
Then, at some recent point
in time, I saw
how utterly mistaken I was.
Not only did they not remember
any of my sins or follies—
some days, unless reminded,
they didn’t quite recall
they had a son. Of his qualities
faint traces, at the most, persist.
Instead I only can remind them
of the past, their past,
that something called “the past”
existed for them: houses, children,
work, vacations, suppers,
marriages, grandchildren,
yesterday’s lunch.
Where once I knelt in shame,
fear of remembering, reminded,
now I kneel to hold their hands,
anchor them to earth and time—
selfishly? For if they slip
on past and upward, what
is life they live now
but precocious
Nirvana?
I used to think Mom and Dad
had something on me:
remembering how crass,
how know-it-all
their offspring had been,
not to mention certain
embarrassing experiments.
Then, at some recent point
in time, I saw
how utterly mistaken I was.
Not only did they not remember
any of my sins or follies—
some days, unless reminded,
they didn’t quite recall
they had a son. Of his qualities
faint traces, at the most, persist.
Instead I only can remind them
of the past, their past,
that something called “the past”
existed for them: houses, children,
work, vacations, suppers,
marriages, grandchildren,
yesterday’s lunch.
Where once I knelt in shame,
fear of remembering, reminded,
now I kneel to hold their hands,
anchor them to earth and time—
selfishly? For if they slip
on past and upward, what
is life they live now
but precocious
Nirvana?
Non-practicing atheist