Tag Archives: Memory

THE ALBUMS

THE ALBUMS

Mother’s shrinkage was marked by domicile

House, apartment, retirement and nursing home
shedding at each move, furniture, china, and art
except for, and never, the old photo albums
heavy in padded leather brown and green

Each visit when conversation stuttered to a stall
(Religion all but Baptist drowned
and what use is weather without crops)
out would come the albums
and in we all would dive
for pennies
bright and shiny at the bottom of the pool

Here’s one from 1958
how young the queen looked then

A DEBBIE MOMENT

A DEBBIE MOMENT

I was noticing again the other day
watching a movie, strangely enough
called “Remains of the Day”
that even though you died
you haven’t gone away

In the movie
a bird gets trapped in the house
and tries to fly
through the high ceiling glass

Remember the time in the office in Austin
when the sparrow was trying in panic to
escape in this way

And you spoke to it in your stardust voice
and it landed in trust in your hands

I remember the windows you flew against
and your trust so light in my hands

And it’s a comfort to see
you and the sparrow
both flying free

WAVES OF MEMORY

WAVES OF MEMORY

I was sailing into waves of memory
as I drove to my boyhood home

To find that some heavy breakers
had turned to light light foam

Here I walked for miles in freedom
and my home was warm and real

And here my good dog saved me
from a coyote’s tender meal

Here all my innocence was known
And most of it shattered too

As I remembered what people said
and then what they might do

I though that I could face those waves
with the things that I now know

But I was more than a little surprised
by the strength of the undertow