Memory Goes On Without Us

by | Feb 22, 2023 | Poetry


Memory is a magpie
grabbing shiny moments to gild her nest.
Sunrise on Kilimanjaro, salt-spiced sex
in Florence, snowball fights with grandkids
shrieking as ice slides down wet shirts.
All part of her nest like sticks and twigs.

Memory flies off once we turn
into pear-shaped fogeys, shorter by the second.
No new sparkly flashes to grab her interest.
Only spent matches, blown fuses and stripped screws.
Only damp tea bags, the drone of sitcoms,
long-winded naps and nine o’clock bedtimes.
Memory grabs her suitcase and takes the next flight
to anywhere but here, while we forget
the way home from Target,
the day that comes after Tuesday.

But memory is alive and well,
sun bathing on the beaches of Bali
in a barely there bikini. Picking up
shiny shells, smooth stones and sexy men.
Memory is a magpie
who recognizes herself in a looking glass. If she sees
no wild delight, no winks or mystic smiles,
she moves on, leaving us fading and folding
as we look down a hall of mirrors
with no reflections.

Photo by Dvortygirl, used and adapted under CC.

About The Author


Claire Scott is an award winning poet who has received multiple Pushcart Prize nominations. Her work has appeared in the Atlanta Review, Bellevue Literary Review, New Ohio Review, Enizagam and The Healing Muse among others. Claire is the author of Waiting to be Called and Until I Couldn’t. She is the co-author of Unfolding in Light: A Sisters’ Journey in Photography and Poetry.