June222012
Memory
Sometimes we forget that we remember;
find it distressing that the past
could so evade us, remain as merely tremor
in our brains, so that we know the former
life is there, but can’t quite grasp
the detail. Sometimes we forget that we remember.
They say to make a house. You can pretend
the rooms are there and in them store fast
memories so they stay whole, more than just a tremor
or a sense of something past. To do this, send
the years upstairs and down. Build shelves to last.
Evict the fact that sometimes we forget we remember.
One room leads in to another. Extend
the house, add on another room or two, the past
needs storage space, a deck, foundations, so the tremors
of the earth remain as tremors and what is tended
in the house stands fast
and true. Sometimes we forget that we remember.
Feel lucky that the past remains as merely tremor.
-Jenny Bornholdt
December222011
Discoveries from this year: This poem by Jenny Bornholdt which comforted me and understood me while I grieved the loss of a very dear friend.
Sometimes we forget that we remember;
find it distressing that the past
could so evade us, remain as merely tremor
in our brains, so that we know the former
life is there, but can’t quite grasp
the detail. Sometimes we forget that we remember.
They say to make a house. You can pretend
the rooms are there and in them store fast
memories so they stay whole, more than just a tremor
or a sense of something past. To do this, send
the years upstairs and down. Build shelves to last.
Evict the fact that sometimes we forget we remember.
One room leads in to another. Extend
the house, add on another room or two, the past
needs storage space, a deck, foundations, so the tremors
of the earth remain as tremors and what is tended
in the house stands fast
and true. Sometimes we forget that we remember.
Feel lucky that the past remains as merely tremor.
-Jenny Bornholdt
