Memory

1992

I bumped into the memory man

the other day—

(we’ve been crossing paths often

lately)—

I listened to small things

which gave me small reactions.

But when he arched his eyebrows

as if asking was I ready?

I decided I wasn’t in about

one second

and I left memory man

where I found him and

conveniently forgot where

that place happened to be.

The only thing is 

he knows how to find me

he finds me every day

and every day he asks the question

and every day I say, “No thanks.”

One of these days, I guess.

It will be one of these days.

The Lost Winter

Where will the night train take me?

So many trains

all leading to distant December destinations

crammed full of strangers breathing

clouds against the windows’ glass

as they exhale their expectations

            Convinced we knew the future from what was

            afraid to confront the past in

            what we had

            become

But for the desperate promise to find a summer unknown

we dismantled the track that would lead us back

home

            No one remembered the snowstorm in

            the mountains

            how we yearned to crash

            to ride this shivering disappointment

            right down to its

            final gasp

When all aboard ride the night train alone

mark the passing of the time with the

falling of the

snow

No use in unpacking for tomorrow

tomorrow is a thousand midnight

dreams of color

away    

Where will the night train take me?

this I learned never to ask

            not with so many trains all

            vacating this station

            with so many tracks, less one, left for me—

            the one you have taken

Illusion

Because you believed in God how
you believed in death -
it happened to others,
not to you.

School essay, 1985

At one time or another, everyone feels a regret or hurt that they hold deep down inside until it nearly crushes them.  By the time it reaches the critical point, though, the person himself has to let it go.  They may never be totally forgiven for what they once did, but complete absolution is rare.  To release the pain, we first must realize that we are holding it inside.  Many people deny this until it hits them like a sudden storm.

Regret

April 1999

Still I will apologize to the
atmosphere breaking,
to the sun the moon the
wind for this rending I caused.
For what is a little uglier now,
a little more fragile,
so much more wronged.
All for the privilege of
falling nauseous to the ground.

Touch me with your forgiveness,
go ahead, shame me some more.
Because never you worry--
sorrow is catching...
catching and never letting me go.

Take warning

Kitty had been awake for ages by the time Leo reappeared in her vestibule.  It was strange to see him in something other than his guard’s uniform, but his unremarkable yet rugged outdoor gear no doubt made more sense for their mission.  

Neither of them spoke on their way to the stables.  A sleepy attendant brought Mars out to them before shuffling off to the warmth of the office.  Kitty could swear Mars gave her a disapproving, sidelong look; she frowned at him in return.  Why could no one understand what she was trying to do?

As if reading her thoughts, Leo said, “You are still certain, Miss Katharine?”

“I am.”

“You are very brave.”

“This isn’t about bravery,” Kitty said, because she knew how brave she wasn’t; she felt sure that any moment now she would throw up.  “This is about taking responsibility.  My father indirectly brought this onto your people, and as his daughter I’m the only one who can fix it.  So that’s just what I’m going to do.”

“While I admire your sense of duty, this conflict was many years in the making.  Had not the Minister led the movement, someone else would have.”

“Maybe, but that isn’t how it worked out.  Oh, and just so you know,” Kitty told Leo, her voice shaking slightly, “I’ve left a note in my room for the King in case something goes wrong.  I told the King it was all my fault and that I basically blackmailed you into helping me.  I’m sure he’ll believe it.”

His expression severe, Leo answered, “It makes no difference, Miss Katharine.  If something goes wrong the King will not care whose fault it was.  Now let us go, before he notices my absence.”

Disguised

I could tell you a story

full of tomorrows and redemption

but who would we be

kidding

acceptance is the poison

In this lexicon of sorrow

I am too tired to speak for myself

if you saw miracles spring from darkness

I saw only memory

swathed in charcoal dusty

dream

Defiance

Dream Journal

February 3, 2005

I was trapped in a country that had been taken over by Nazis and they were looking for me.  People were trying to help me hide until I could find a way to get out of the country.  We had to run through the night, dodging soldiers, so these guys took me to their grungy student apartment.  I thought I would be safe there but the Nazis found us and we had to take off again.  While we were running a guy jumped out in front of me and took my picture—he was a photographer shooting random pictures for some reason—and I was really scared because now the Nazis could get that picture and know what I looked like.  We wound up in a strange museum that was loaded to the gills with old stuff just sort of lying around like a junk shop.  I don't know if we got away.  I just can't remember anything else.