Читать книгу Ash and Embers - James A. Zoller - Страница 11

I can’t speak for others

but my own rough scraps

of collective memory,

my handful of details, drop away

steadily in the dusk.

The memories I keep are soiled

by the worry

of my hands. I hope

for better from you,

but I suspect you are –

like me – inattentive.

Thus, the big questions

cannot be answered alone.

I show you my ideas.

You can show me yours.

We can hope we still hold enough

between us to figure out

who we are. What this all means.

Or to figure out

what pieces have slipped away.

Still, these I set between us

on the table of common interest

like so many pebbles,

as my witness,

polished now and dark.