Untitled (Lawrence Bernabe)

Untitled

Lawrence Bernabe

Absence

and persistence of memories.

fading snapshots from childhood,

a satellite’s composite map

of my thoughts, regions, squares

gridded through meanders,

and ranges

and me at a table, scanning

for a hint of my house.

let us say/i haven’t finished

printing out/ my country,

let alone the world. let us say,

i hunt for peace.

someone says somewhere

there lies a clearing.

i go out and take a look,

i’d tell you now what i saw there

but then, i have forgotten.

Already i am charmed

into forgetting.