My Heart Remembers

1
My dream as a child was to ride a yellow balloon and fly high into the sky. Those dimpled elbows, the wispy curls. The flashes of dark golden teeth inside the earthy faces of Nepalese tea-house hostesses. The tramp, tramp, tramp of my cousins’ feet on the cobblestones of the streets of Marseille.

2
Why I can’t do this again. One half of my temple was combed — I came rushing to see you, and I forgot my hair. How I once loved you, as I sit with my hair half done. The fountains where children played. Beautiful smiles greeting, “Namaste!” Namaste.

3
In Spanish the word recordar (to remember) means to pass once more through the heart. My heart remembers this and it shows me you did care for me. A thousand goodbyes. This country was built by those who wanted to practice their faith or lack of faith. Gray recumbent tombs of the dead in desert places. Hills of sheep, and the homes of the forsaken.

Previous

Back to Collection