Memory by Octavio R. Gonzalez
published in Volume 10, Issue 2 on September 21st, 2003two white sparrows hover
above my shoulders. yesterday
is only yesterday. somehow
the past being the future we choose,
small, delicate. barely do you hear
a sound coming from their feathers.
it is not too cold, outside, but my
shoulders are bare. I have no white feathers
but my hands they too hover
above memories like air, wind, weather.
time is to the left, pecking at the invisible
confusion of every day; noise like a blanket
of snow, covering my ears, musical chirps
from the one on the right, angel in stasis,
halo of consciousness. their eyes -- marbles
speckled with hope, shedding not one red note.