TRIPTYCH

(Center Panel) — Fabric of Memory

                    a muslin — or better — burlap
swatch, partly unwove, partly frayed—edge, floating

          ...but not like an angel
(though in some lights, through some eyes...)

but more like something once attached,
detached

and about to un-dissolve.

It has been in the rain.
It has been before the fire.
It is the symbol on your breast.

(Left Wing) — Fragment of Memory

          solids — such as birch bark peeled and curled, or veins like those on the back
of your grandmother's hands
          or less tangible — stairs leading up or down, sun glinting off glass, toss
of a stranger's head

and suddenly:
love fills your eyes
love empties your eyes

(Right Wing) — Flashback of Memory

Would we do it again?
Again and again?

And what about the ones not kept?
Or the ones kept that don't rise
until unbidden, unrecalled, unexpected hands outstretch, palms up and open, offering
a time that is outside of time.

Can we have a taste?

Would we do it again?

Again and again?

How many times?

CORONA

Memory and Dream

One is a corruption.
On your screen parts slide
over each other exchanging acts.
Certainly lovers.

____

This poem began as an attempt use poetry to describe how I would depict memory using mixed media. Then words, a stronger force for me, took over. If memory serves me right, I was also reading Barthes, Camera Lucida, at the time.