The Eyes of Memory

Memory has a fly's eyes
Facets facing every degree
More nuance than a painting's color palette
And more metaphor than a pond
Lily pads support lazy turtles
And there is the fly again
Going from place to place
Past to past
A short life
Too many moments
Seeing meeting touch
Where the hands come together
Trying to stay alive
Or eat
Or make more
Impulses reinterpreted as insults
Rages returned as theater
Characters on a literary dust jacket
Wondering how long it lasts

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s