Accruing and losing

We spend our entire lives
Accruing and losing
Memories
And people
And things we think are important


We are trees in autumn
Shrugging off our leaves
Like heavy shawls
Growing bare to accommodate new seasons


Your mother would make homemade pudding
Spooning it still warm into cut glass goblets
The skin formed by cooling still intact
And your father
He would put milk atop it
Swirling white with chocolate brown
This you would eat so slowly
With your special spoon
Letting it glide sweet and cold and warm at the same time
Over your tongue and down your throat
This thing they made together
Consumable proof of their combined love for you




Polyester footy pajamas
Red as Bozo's nose
Scratchy on your skin
After a bath
The feet crackling as you move
A sound you hate
You're a light sleeper
You've woken to it too many times
Rolling over
Stiflingly warm
Your only option
To grab the zipper at your neck
Pull it all the way down to your belly button
Spread the flaps wide like fins underwater
And breathe back to sleep
Because you may hate that sound
But there are others you hate more




A fall day
Light playing on the still green grass
As the blades wave in the wind
You're wearing your favorite dress
Kelly green
It's a twirler
And you're spinning
So fast
But you've forgotten to keep an eye on one spot
And you stop suddenly
The world turning around you still
While your body has ceased
Everything tilts in the golden
And you fall
Knuckles scraping stone
As you try to brace for impact
Raising a hand to your mouth
Sucking away the sting
The tang of metal and salt
You're sitting in freshly disturbed earth
And everybody else is crying




You've driven hours to visit a friend
Your legs sore from lack of movement
You didn't want to stop
Only the once
Only long enough to empty your aching bladder
The house is warm
Heated by two wood stoves
Late to bed
Early to rise
Or your breath will freeze before you
You have a nervous habit
Of playing with your necklace
Sliding the clasp
Back to the precise center of your nape
But your fingers
Touch only your bare throat
The fine chain disappeared
You spend hours
Searching the cracks in the floorboards
Hoping to catch a glimpse of
Startling blue star sapphire
Or the glint of
Delicate gold swirling over itself
Your mother gave it to you
When you rode with her in the ambulance
Your father had given it to her years ago
He thought it looked like a Yes album cover
But you'd made one stop
And the wood here isn't giving up any secrets
Though your parents had given up years before
On each other
On you


Will these memories cling
Drying
Browning
But whole
To your branches?
Or will they be replaced by something else?
Greener
Fresher
And whole