Feb 23, 2009

Memorial mandate

Remember, she says, and she screams it, scaring all the birds away. Remember. Remember she says, though we don't know what she's saying or what this means. Remember. She shouts it, this mandate to make memorial, remember!, you must must remember.

As she hacks and cackles she sways, rolling her eyes in a shutter, a spasm, a spirit coming and taking away, and her sing-song voice breaks and frays, falling into a crackly chorus inquiring, remember? remember? remember? But we don't know what this means. She seems deranged. She seems like she's lost, her long white hair hanging in tangles, her nightgown dragging in the dirty snow.

Remember? we wonder, remember how?

Remember she says, and she moans, moving her fingers to make some sign in the air, reaching out like there's something there. But there's nothing. And we don't know how this means.

The snow falls in flutters and in fury on the open fields laying fallow in Dachau.