Memory Slough

Memory Slough

There is something bright
as memory in eye:
as when you knew
things for the first time–
only the merest
lifetime ago.

When you were on
a first name basis
with the stars—
and now here you are
again, tumbling like a seed
backward towards what you
have always known

into the trembling forests
of the heart as the
horse of breath takes you
on her wind.

Riding the wild paths
we name for joy

The desperate streets
we might still name for hope

Painting away the fences
so we can look at ourselves
through tree and stone—
and the reedy straws
of time.

We are in too deep
to turn back now.