The Moya View

Tag: Memory

  • An Old Poet

    An Old Poet

    The old poet walks downs the streets of his dying city.The ancient tenements, stories upon stories of them,rise up before him. He thinks he may have inhabited them. He remembers- he built them but never inhabited them. He looks closer and the bricks are in the shape of his mothers teeth-square and right and just;the…

  • The Water Calls  Us Down

    The Water Calls Us Down

    The water call us down.She names us and we call her ours. Down we goand we sleep.Awakenedwe remember- that blue pool-the one with no bottom.

  • Soft Body Memories of Our Grief

    We exist in unkeepable bodies   and in the bending over we decompose   for we are are but the memory of grief   that soft bodies leave when they die.

  • The Sea Grape Remembers

    The Sea Grape Remembers

    It has been five years since I visited you my old Sea Grape friend, standing proud and wizened in the front yard, unbothered by all the construction behind. Everything is smaller and crowded than I once lived it, except for you— still the right size for a wild girl to climb, providing enough shade for…