a return
memento mori
What must a minute feel like
to a leaf falling
to a fern unfurling
to frost in October
to a puddle in the sun?
I wrote this poem three years ago. I came up with the title two years ago. I first shared it with you here last year. It’s looked a little different at every turn. I know we’ve spoken about poems and whether they’re ever truly finished. This is something I love about poetry- the ability to revisit, cut and compost with more ease than longer form writing.
‘Remember you must die’ is a reminder I’ve considered tattooing on my body. It requires no explanation, as we all understand it with every fiber of our beings.
Do you have a poem you continually return to? A line or a fragment? The phrase memento mori and this poem are two for me. As a parent of a young human who wakes up a different person every day, I understand memento mori differently now than I did even a year ago. Indeed, I’m hardly the same person I was when I first wrote this poem. Pieces remain, but on the whole, I feel like an entirely new person.
Adrienne Rich's poem "Prospective Immigrants Please Note" has lived in my head rent-free, for years. "The door itself makes no promises. It is only a door." https://allpoetry.com/-Prospective-Immigrants-Please-Note-
This is beautiful.