Set out to see the Murder Stone, Sessho-seki, on a borrowed horse, and the man leading it asked for a poem. “Something beautiful, please.”
The horse turns his head–
from across the wide plain,
a cuckoo’s cry
Basho, “Narrow Road to the Interior,” Translated by Sam Hamil, The Essential Basho, pg. 8-9
Another Momento Mori
What are these memories we keep, that we’d rather cast away? What use are all these recollections of bleary-eyed grins, middle-of-the-night screams, and adolescent chokeholds?
Better a sunrise over Appalachian peaks then these spider webs of history!
Memorial stone
a Ramapo sunset
isn’t enough
for dVerse Poets Quadrille #91 – Keep (pubtended by Kim Russell)
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Oh yes. The memories we keep…and then there are the memories that keep us.
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Exactly that, Beverly! Thanks! 🙂
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Really fetching and beautiful Frank. Really elegant the minimalism.
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Thanks, Rob! 🙂
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I know what you mean, Frank. Sometimes I can’t see the wood for the memory trees, and then, other times, the fine details of moments I have tried hard to forget come back to haunt me.
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Yes, that’s it! Certain memories do haunt us, and often for the same reason: they haven’t properly been laid to rest. Thanks, Kim! 🙂
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Nice comparison between the Appalachian peaks and the spider webs of history.
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Thanks, Frank! 🙂
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We can’t always control the inner narrative…(k)
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Indeed. But we can control how we respond to it. That’s why I remind myself to “ride the dragon.” 😉 Thanks! 🙂
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So would I Frank, so would I.
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🙂
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Sometimes it’s wise to keep those memories … provided we don’t become overwhelmed 🙂
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Indeed! Thanks! 🙂
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We stockpile the useless things and find that there is no room for beauty
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Too true! Thanks! 🙂
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