Chard deNiord (Putney, Vermont, USA): "Nor Ever Would Be"

Memory is almost enough if you’re in solitary
or intensive care, in which case the past merges
with the present, in such a way that time passes
imperceptibly, as though time itself was calling you to lose
yourself in various versions of what only partly happened,
so that you’re here and not here at the same time,
both real and virtual, adding recall to supposition
and vice versa in the mercy of waiting somewhere.
As if, also, the Higher Power were cognizant from the start
that pre-humans were destined to become human,
that moment they became aware that they were remembering,
and it wasn’t enough, and as an addendum
to this thought, that nothing was enough, nor would ever be,
or would be. A wind blows across the earth like a page:
more, more— whatever it is. See how it passes away—
girders and all— in the flames you can only see on the screen
of your lids, not so towering but persistent, licking.

The single stroke that Lily made comes close—
her simple, ungifted mark that was enough for then,
and now, which is all anyone could hope for at the end
of a war, which it always is, at least so far. So far.

© Chard deNiord 2007