Kans grass, Black and white image.

Remembering

By

This poem originally appeared in the Spring 1980 Issue of MQR. It is available via our archives.

When there was air, when you could breathe any day if you liked, and if you wanted to you could run, I used to climb those hills back of town and follow a gully so my eyes were at ground level and could look out through grass as the stems bent in their tensile way, and see snow mountains follow along, the way distance goes. Now I carry those days in a tiny box wherever I go. I open the lid like this and let the light glimpse and then glance away. There is a sigh like my breath when I do this. Some days I do this again and again.

Image Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons: By Abhijit Kar Gupta from Kolkata, India – Kans Grass (কাশ ফুল, kash phool)

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