Evocation #8 Pungent Memory

Terry and Zeus - Newcastle Harbour

Angels and Saints tend my path,
Lest I dash my foot against a stone.
I scramble along a rocky shoreline,
following voices of grandson and grandpa,
Ever talking and laughing
and pointing to boats and crabs and pelicans.

Flowers, fotos, a book of blessings.
The postie is tender in his delivery.
Each package brings a sigh and a smile,
Then follows the tears and gasps for elusive air.
(I wasn’t the one with lung cancer!)

I lie, eyes closed, wide awake in bed,
Sifting through presenting images.
They dart and dance in my mind’s eye,
pirouetting in tease, as if to say
“try to catch us”.
They threaten to escape and leave me destitute.
The relentless bombardment of scenes exhausts.
Then follow the threat - they might not return.
Will they get lost and not find their way home,
These memories...
Don’t they think they belong with me? I enquire,
outraged at their infidelity.
They forget.
(Perhaps they have brain cancer?)

Memories push in, rude and brash,
Unbidden interlopers.
A probing needle becomes confused
with a prodding crochet hook.
A yellow container labeled ‘sharps’...
The intimacy of a wheelchair looking longingly at me,
As if we were waiting to go on another date,
But I am fickle.
When I go, I will leave you behind,
to get lost in time in the eternity of symphonic rush.
(They forget they are mere products of unforgiving anthropocene.)

I surface to face a room for living,
Christmas reminders and cards of compassion,
Scent of blossom and wisdom in words.
Albums of love catch my attention,
images sent across state boundaries, and
capturing both a moment and timelessness.
The age of the image, stuffed into shoeboxes
and jumbled into ziplock bags!

One sits on an envelop...
A strong memory of earthiness... truffles,
the kind that turns the head of a pig or sets a dog barking,
Transforming an egg into yellow gold.
The truffle is a blessing from the earth.
It consumes you in sensation and produces laughter
to accompany wine and storytelling.
It is both rustic and refined,
switching company as easily as my Second Lieutenant.
Like a bell on a cat, serving to warn native birds
and betraying hiding holes -
If ever I need to find a memory,
I will need to find a truffle!

(C) 2019, A.Koh-Butler