Memory

didn’t we kiss for the first time

yesterday, on this too brief passage

through the invisible gardens

of time? the dogwoods

by the old dutch church drop all

of their flowers at once, blanketing

the ancient graves with white

for a single day each year. memory

is all the immortality we’re offered.

this, at least, we must promise one another –

me, I vow never to forget your eyes,

and you, you my love

must always remember my hands.

©jafink/oldbones.newsnow.com