A MEMORY

A sickness came over me

whose origins were never determined

though it became more and more difficult

to sustain the pretense of normalcy,

of good health or joy in existence—

Gradually I wanted only to be with those like myself;

I sought them out as best I could

which was no easy matter

since they were all disguised or in hiding.

But eventually I did find some companions

and in that period I would sometimes walk

with one or another by the side of the river,

speaking again with a frankness I had nearly forgotten—

And yet, more often we were silent, preferring

the river over anything we could say—

On either bank, the tall marsh grass blew

calmly, continuously, in the autumn wind.

And it seemed to me I remembered this place

from my childhood, though

there was no river in my childhood,

only houses and lawns. So perhaps

I was going back to that time

before my childhood, to oblivion, maybe

it was that river I remembered.