Remembrance
by Michael R. Burch

a coronavirus poem

Remembrance like a river rises;
the rain of recollection falls;
frail memories, like vines, entangled,
cling to Time's collapsing walls.

The past is like a distant mist,
the future like a far-off haze,
the present half-distinct an hour
before it blurs with unseen days.

Published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: coronavirus, remembrance, memory, memories, recollection, time, rain, river, mist, haze, blurs, past, present, future

I suppose I long for those moments in the bright sunny parking lot far away from home again where the music is playing softly from the car and I’m smiling at the birds flying over my head and the flag is waving;
the clinking, sharp metallic sounds of the ropes and supports smacking against the flagpole are washed away with the wind and it sounds beautiful, like the early morning tinkling of the neighbor’s wind-chimes next door.
And here we are walking,
those I care about;
we are walking and there is the slap of our shoes on the pavement and it sounds so very loud in the bright sun, as if the sounds of our feet are much closer to us than even the air on our skin.
I am visiting my yehyeh and he is going to smile as bright as the sun beating down and tanning our arms and shins(oh, how easily I would tan those summers). My mom will worry and fret like she always does these days and she will make sure everything is okay- grandpa insists everything is just fine. Even during these times I longed for the neighborhood days- a memory within a memory- running down the sunny sidewalks, opening the hot metallic gates that have eaten up all of the sun’s rays- and then running through the mulch with my sister, smiling and happy and swinging and playing. Those days were full of smiles and small complaints about things that didn’t really matter- there is mulch in my shoe and I wanted the other swing, not this one. Then we would run home to hug amah and she would laugh and tell us she loves us ‘all the way from your head to your toe!’ and then I would giggle so hard- it always made me laugh, the way she said it and tickled my face and smiled! After that, time passed so quickly and everything changed in less than an instant. Now there is less talking and more of our worries are in our own heads and not shared at all.
Now the sun does not shine so brightly and the strange black hole that is eating the earth very slowly inches its way further and further into view, like the sun making its way down, down, down the sky until it is barely on the horizon...

She taught me
To be a spark of color
In a world of black and white

She taught me
To express myself
And quit hiding who I am

She taught me
Of my worth
Both inside and out

She taught me
These lessons to carry
After she'd passed

She taught me
The lessons that would
Some day save my life

Once in a Blue Moon
After nights without you
I miss you six times over.

I get angry at you a lot these days.
Not for the drugs
Or for the intermittent appearances like a commercial during my favorite show
Or for the arguments you couldn't bother to hide from me
Or for the distaste you held for my father so ******* proudly that anyone on our block could tell you about how many near fist fights my mom had to pull you out of
Or for the times I'd find you locked away in your room crying so ******* hard you couldn't speak or look at me
Or for the times you got lost in space while I was talking to you about important things

No. Not for these beautiful moments of you in your rawest forms.
I get angry when I remember how much I ******* loved you
I get angry when I remember your favorite foods, and sounds-
I can't even ******* look at Mickey Mouse anymore without almost breaking down

I get angry because I remember how easily you could calm me down and help me regain control
Because out of EVERYONE in that household, you loved me enough to figure me out.

I get angry because I took the time to repay that respect just to have it spit in my eye
I get angry on the days I think about my childhood and remember how you smiled but not the laugh.
I get angry when I remember you telling me not to be a cry baby, each and every time those floodgates break
In fact I heard it three times when writing this

I get angry because now, as an adult
I can see myself following your foot steps
And I've never been more proud
And I can see that I've outlived you; surpassed the place you left your last mark
And I am hurt that I no longer have your portrait like footprints to guide me
I get angry that you made yourself my older sister when you saw I had no one
And that I loved you so much your death still brings me to shakes 15 years later.

I get angry because you died
And more importantly
No one said you were allowed to do that before me
And I get angry because I know that wasn't your choice
So when I picture the last time I saw that car
And imagine what it was like with you still in it
I bleed myself in your honor.

So I'll run
I'll run so ******* fast and far it'll make you think of when we used to foot race
Or when we played tag together and I was always it because you were too quick

I'll scream in rage and in fear
I'll scratch my arms and slice my fingers until my skin matches my carved out soul
I'll rip the Earth apart into nothing but my love for you
Until the day I can end this good mourning
By hearing you sing your bird like chime
"Good Morning, Get up, Let's go"

If Only …..

If only…
to lift the heart,
to play the game
of hope again,
to caress the softness
of longing.

If only….
the half-spent moon
would re-appear in full,
gently touching each
dark shadow on the edge
of night.

If only….
time had held still,
billowing into a mound
of motionless pink cloud.

If only ….
the dream of myself,
filled with a thousand
frailties, would brighten
the cold room of my life
with warm, quiet smiles.

If only…..
the dove’s shimmering
coo would break through
the tears of dawn where
the silk-white sky would
swallow me.

Then, at the first unexpected
tinge of brightness, I could
pat, stroke, kneel and kiss
the earth where your upturned
palm meets mine.