A friend told me that if
I want to store something
that I see in my memory bank
to blink my eyes, deliberately,
as if my eyelids were the shutter
of a camera. I do this often now
and suppose it’s also what
the earth is doing when
she closes her eyelids
at night: remembering.
Everything. In case it all
should vanish before morning.
I join her. I intend to carry as much
of it with me as my soul can hold.
Just in case we turn out to be
the very last ones
ever to be here.