my heart remembers more than me,
a gathering of pain
and all the blood that has been spilled
in war, in rage, in shame.
each beat recalls a life before
ticked down and now gone free;
its meaning, track and old network
are gathered up in me.
the rain on leaves that sounds like shots
and towns after tornados,
the tides and sun and lying tongues
that speak of gold and rainbows;
all these things and other signs
of life and pulsing minds
are bundled in one crawling beat
to seek what it can find.
within my blood, the memories range
infesting joint and vein
to plague me with the sins and joys
and memories of trains
that rolled away with brothers, sons,
and husbands dressed the same
to fight a war the state had waged,
part of an ancient game.
i know when coffins came on planes
or telegraphs were sent,
i know the men that witnessed death,
the places they were sent.
i know the women who stayed home
and prayed each night for peace
and dreamed a family whole again
their lovers in one piece.
history ties me to each breath
taken years before
uninvited, never lost,
their lives make up my core.