Poetry Porch: Poetry

 

Broken memory
by Marge Piercy

It brushes my mind as if someoneís
long hair trailed across my flesh,
perhaps a lover long forgotten
circumstances vivid, face blurred.

I can almost grasp it, faintly
luminescent like a deep sea fish
flashing red in the blind darkness
where pressure would flatten me.

My mind is fading at the edges
Into sleep. Itís a voice not quite
heard from across the marsh saying
something you can half decipher.

Itís faded writing on a flood-washed
page, black ink now lavender.
A scent that tickles the back
of your nose as it dissipates.

Is this real memory or something
I read, some scene from a darkened
theater of my childhood with sticky
floors and gum stuck under seats?

Whatever it is I have lost it,
gone into the sinkhole of the night
swimming away like a blind fish
in a cave where silent rivers seep.


Copyright © 2008 by Marge Piercy.