I’ve been carrying this memory
for weeks now
ever since I walked past
your old building
on my way back
from The Strand
your long dark hair
the way you moved
on top of me
those nights
in my loft
crouching there
half Cherokee princess
doing a dance
later in The Village
hearing Tracy Nelson sing
that voice
shivers down my spine
and you swaying
eyes half closed
your hand in mine
and I thought
I should never
let you go
but foolish me
holding the world
in my hands
and letting it
slip away
even your painting
of sunflowers
lost over the years
all that’s left
this old address
an image
slipping in and out
of memory
the past
Hearts of Stone
listening to
Southside Johnny
this morning
and remembering nights
of whiskey
and albums like this
long ago
these songs
can’t revive
those feelings
memories
lie dormant
a lifetime ago
and here
on my balcony
the sun brilliant
in the sky
Tahin will soon
drive to the bazaar
with me along
for the ride
and later
I will listen
to Joshua Bell
Sarah Chang
fresh figs
pears peaches
on the table
peanuts too
another world
I live in
far from whiskey
and the need
to dull
or heighten
the pain
sleep
sleep
when it comes
is unforgiving
interrupted by dreams
faces
long forgotten
crop up to speak
of defeats failures misgivings
recounted in great detail
torment now
here
in a land
heavy with memory
there is no respite
from the past
unpacking memories
opening boxes
separating items
these memories
of an eventful life
in my hands
soon to be placed
on shelves
while music plays
from decades ago
and though I thought
I was safe
from pain regret remorse
there is no escape
from memories
in one’s hands
outside of boxes
laid bare
like one’s heart
decades ago
decades ahead
the here and now
at night
sometimes late at night
when the words don’t come to paper
and my mind drifts too far from the reading
I entertain myself by exploring
a past that could have been
if I made other choices along the way
to where I am today
no good can come from this
but it does reaffirm the present
since whatever I could have done
or might have been
would not have allowed me to know
some of the people whose lives
intersected with mine
and having those people, those memories
still alive in my heart
was worth whatever price I paid
to get here
staring somewhat resolutely
toward the next decade
of what is this life
Leonard Durso 