memory serves no master outside herself
without control the story heard trembles
and loops like a river bends and shifts
through the soft sand banks which pretend
toward a definition of our edges for years
on end until an eternity is washed away
beneath the redemptive waters scrubbing
the landscape clean under an alluvial flood
where all our traces are erased and the earth
wakes to memory whispering her song anew
as if she spoke into an echo of what should be
already etched through our veins in calligraphic
helixes which bend back to carve primal letters
along the walls affixing us safely within ourselves
(February 2, 2015)
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