Memory

Memory

…and does the hope go on

after the names are forgotten

and is the pain of the past done

when the calling has stopped and those

betrayals so long repeated

that they are taken for granted

as the shepherd does with the sheep

                                    from “Memorandum”

                                    W. S. Merwin

It seemed perfectly normal, even the theft,

the sneaking down into the mouth of the stair-

way in the dark this time without my brother

let him sleep this time I’m eight maybe and it’s still

no lights but I know the way feel the way

count the way every step edge solid all the way

up to twelve and the flat floor and then the eight

steps to the bathroom still dark but sometimes

that moon hung in a small window over the toilet 

I was too small to reach the window but knew 
that outside the mockorange bushes were green 
and maybe on the verge of showing off but I’d come 
for the Band-Aids

and I love the moon and she’s always quiet

and we conspire sometimes she watches while I pull

out the box and listen to the slit slit of the lid

and leave the flat closure partly open and listen

to him cough or her cough or some coon prowl

beneath the window and then I slide out

two standard Band-Aids wrapped and clean

and remember to close that lid because the last time

my brother got the blame and I couldn’t say it was me

I couldn’t confess that I needed them it was always

a why coated with you’re lying so I shut the box

and the pale face in the window lit me to the door

and I counted up and up to twelve, and then to another

seven in the dark to the bed and under the covers

where I opened each still fresh Band-Aid and the crinkle

was too loud but I slid each edge away from its skin

like separating knees and then the sticky and then the small

holy gauze aroma of healing but I didn’t know that then

I just opened them in the dark with the covers over my head

and I was careful, careful not to let the left stick

to the right because the last time it did and I had

to ball them up and throw them away at school,

but I was careful the way folks should be careful

with bleeding things and I stuck them one over the other

in an x over the crotch of my doll because I couldn’t

I just couldn’t because becausebecause he’d see 
but shhhhh don’t tell anyone I’m sure

I heard that in the dark seven steps from the stairs