Memorial Day, 2015
I turn away from the sun, and drink.
Every window is dark.
No one hears my song, not even the guitar.
When the rain pauses the grackle rests on the cedar picket.
Etymology: from Latin memorialis, of or belonging to memory,
leading to home and family, their connotations.
Remembering is simple, she says. But forgetting…
The coral snake slips by, unseen.
Nothing lives in my shadow.
“Memorial Day, 2015” first appeared at Picaroon Poetry in July 2017. Many thanks to editor Kate Garrett, for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
The line “nothing lives in my shadow”, have you used this in another poem? I feel as though I’ve read it before, maybe even recently.
I love the feeling of ennui in this.
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It was published last summer, so you may have read it then. I hope. Otherwise, I dunno.
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“No one hears my song, not even the guitar” This is brilliant. Such richness, I can almost taste the atmosphere your words are evoking. Thank you!
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Thanks very much, Matthias. Much appreciated.
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Wonderful. My type of poetry. But . . .
“Remembering is simple, she says. But forgetting . . .”
Did my wife give you permission to quote her? 🙂
Excellent work.
Mark
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Thanks, Mark. Hmm. Are we married to the same woman?
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