“too, i have some truths ”
By Emily Mills ( 12/15/05)
Too, I have some truths…
they remain hidden
under locks
living with worms and potato bugs—
events obscured by
mindful forgetting
and the creeping gray mist of moments passed
I remember
my first memory
a dream, a nightmare
before words
only pictures
the moon exploding in size
entering my infant world
through an open window
and me supposing
the blanket
was barrier enough to save me
But the day before my mother’s death
is nothing, just clouds.
Lawn soup, summertime made
an imaginative meal—
grass and mushrooms and Johnny Jump-Ups
water from the hose
in an empty ice cream bucket
I can recall this clearly.
Boys, sometimes girls, behind woodsheds
and garbage bins and trees
(anything that obscured)
just finding out what was what
just brave-curious exploration
long bored hot days
the idea of something more
but no follow-through
(it’s for the best, really)
a pang of guilt
over
how good it felt.
Little Susie loves Scotty
aieeeeee!
in those days I could ride my bike
downtown or wherever I’d like
buy baseball cards for the hard, stale gum
build snow forts and tunnels ‘til my toes were numb—
this is remembered, this is kept
only
except
those things that take time,
so much space in who I am,
seem more quickly to become gone
un-remembered
just absorbed and remained
‘til death do us part.
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