Memento

[alonso ramoran]

Memento



I was with him when he found it

discarded among cedar and limestone,

the skull of an 8-point buck that he plated Love the subtle change from "now" to "that he..."

with chips from a shattered mirror.



A memento of my son’s painstaking labor -

breaking the mirror, selecting the chips,

affixing them, patient and compelled. I understand and actually really like your reasoning for keeping "compelled"



I look into the skull’s mirror,

meditate on the chaos of my visage

reflected back in a kaleidoscope of loss. I could picture the skull and for some reason I didn't consider how fragmented things would look in its reflection. Thank you for clarifying, this reads really well to me now



In its reflection, this curiosity of bone and silvered glass, Could we shorten to "In this curiosity of bone and silvered glass,"? If not, I do appreciate the pseudo-repetition of the word reflection (reflected, reflection). It adds rhythm to the poem imo

could he see into an indifferent universe 

where his future would be denied?


It’s a universe we share. He is father to my grief I respect the decision to keep "It's a universe we share." It's a phrase that does add more emotional weight to the poem
and I am father to his memory

that time has fused into the happenstance of now. "happenstance of now" is a nice phrase to think on. I'm thinking it refers to the N coming across the memento left by the son, but I also feel like I had to do some work to arrive at this conclusion because there's nothing in this line or stanza that references the skull again in some way.

Memento







I was with him when he found it



discarded among cedar and limestone,



the skull of an 8-point buck 



now plated with chips from a shattered mirror,



a memento of my son’s painstaking labor



breaking the mirror, selecting the chips,



affixing them, patient and compelled.







I look into the skull’s mirror,



meditate on the chaos of my visage



reflected back in a kaleidoscope of loss.







What did he see in its reflection, 



this curiosity of bone and silvered glass?



Could he see into an indifferent universe 



where his future would be denied?







It’s a universe we share. He is father to my grief



and I am father to his memory



that time has fused into the happenstance of now.

I think you've taken others' feedback very well by coming through with a delicate edit that doesn't alter the tone of the original draft. If you were to leave this draft as is, you would be leaving us with a poignant and well-crafted piece that I really appreciate you sharing.

Alex