Napo 17
Floppy
Disk
How
can I explain this to my children:
The
enigma of a floppy disk?
How,
today, no one can read them anymore
Like
a dead language, all but lost to time.
How
poems and term papers and photos,
The
things we tried to save, decay
Underneath
ancient sofas or in landfills.
How
they reminded me that memory
Was
finite. How I could only save
What
mattered most. How I could hold
It
in my hand, and feel it, precious.
How
I could snap it like a kitten’s neck,
Erase
memory like a line on the chalk board.
Today,
memory hangs over us,
A cloud
that gathers and gathers
And
gathers all our lives.
We
never have to touch it, no,
But
we carry its weightless
On
our backs, somehow a heavy load,
A hymn
we keep humming and can’t forget.
My
children, they’ll laugh when I explain
how
sweet it sometimes was to lose.
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