Tethered and Gathered

I have noticed

that pieces of my

overall memory

are tethered at a distance

to the hearts and minds

of them in whom I have

entrusted the gift of holding.

The true height of

that hill, the actual color of 

that rock bass’s eye, the lusciousness 

of that vegetable lasagna.  Things we lived

in common.

Held

by another until called forth;

gathered.

It is an intrinsic task

of community; to store these

portions of the selves in the

porous walls of the ALL.

Held

by another until called forth;

gathered.

Today we use external

drives (which sounds like we have

been suddenly exposed), but

in days gone we knew how siblings,

neighbors, and cousins may clutch

and stash - grab and stow - the portions

of our we which fly off us

as we move.  Living.

Held

by another until called forth;

gathered.

It is in relation that we may

retrieve and gather our disparate 

fragments to the pile of our me.

Held

by another until called forth;

gathered.

In perpetuity and

trust.

Memory is communal;

tethered and gathered to and

by them we love enough

to trust and hold

the fragile lines that

give us meaning.