The Persistence of Memory

A Poem

for Amanda Anderson

Every night I draw the blades and I do not know what this is

this mix between gratitude and grief this we made it but

oh it went too fast and oh what will tomorrow bring and oh

can we make it all the way through? With every single day and moment

feeling like we are dripping off a ledge like a Dali clock

like we are swirls and swirls walking around, sitting around,

late night panic snacking around waking up at 3am, dreaming of coffee and peace

while spinning around and around - the clocks are warped

the clocks are hanging on tree branches, the clocks are

oozing and by the way what even are clocks, what even is time -

What is memory? Yes it persists but in this

what does that mean — to persist; to stubbornly keep going, to

be here again, like clockwork, to hang on and hang on and hang on, oh

to “ continue firmly or obstinately in an opinion or a course of action in spite of difficulty, opposition, or failure” —

that sounds about right that is the exact sound, in fact

my blinds make every night as I close them slowly

looking outside, the sky in it’s summer sundown phase, as I continue firmly

as I obstinately close the blinds, shut the window, lock the door

in spite of the difficulty, opposition and failure of so many varieties on so many levels -

and it is the sound again, this persistence of the morning, the opening, the reopening -

the gratitude grief lingering - as I drip and warp and swirl

contemplating the art of time.

©‌Jenny‌ ‌Justice.‌‌ ‌All‌ ‌Rights‌ ‌Reserved.‌ ‌ ‌

‌‌Jenny‌ ‌Justice‌,‌ ‌Poet.‌ ‌Author‌ ‌of‌ ‌Love‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌of‌ ‌Climate‌ ‌Change‌ ‌and‌ ‌Reveal.‌ ‌You‌ ‌can‌ ‌ read‌ ‌more‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌poetry‌ ‌at‌‌ ‌Justice‌ ‌Poetic.‌‌ ‌‌Sign‌ ‌up‌ ‌for‌ ‌her‌ ‌newsletter‌ ‌‌here‌.‌