September 2019

pay the ferryman with a coin

he will bear you across

the river of forgetfulness

but find your own way to me

feel my palm, cold as tubers

reignite those memories you thought

the ferryman swept behind you

with a stroke of his oar

the life you cannot recall

I will remember for you

for nothing beneath the living

is lost to me, save myself

all that comes from the earth

was once mine in these dark halls

and, unlike my husband,

I covet more than wealth

remember for me a meadow’s arms

flung open to the sun, enticing

Apollo with languidly-bent flowers,

alluring and heavy with nectar

morning mist climbing the cliffs

(were you born there?) rosemary

tasting Poseidon’s briny breath

with a hundred green tongues

Did Alcyone find peace? or stillness, at least—

her father calmed the waters and the wind

for seven days, while my mother weeps

until the grains bow with snow, and my father

looks to his many children but seldom

the villagers mourn

because they are hungry

let them taste the bitterness

of pomegranate seeds

the roses on the far islands

are unfurling their blooms, and the ones

without thorns are all gathered up

remember for me, now—

what happens next?