If We Remember In a South London elderly home, the residents had finished their midday meal, now marionettes with strings unstressed, sunken into each puffed red lazy chair around the room. Our uncle was wide-eyed, shifting in his ninety-seventh loop around the sun. His now and memories are dancing, fleeting memories selfish for attention in his mind. Then, I shifted time selfishly, the marionettes latched me to a summer between college years, working with my mum, watching her with seasoned residents, a lead bee swiftly hopping within a hive, bringing care, communicating, coaxing, carrying those with frail tree branches, frames waving in the wind. The sound of the domino box ting on the table, jolted me back with our uncle, his eyes shining as I swirled the domino cards, as we Jamaicans called them. Touching the dominoes, uncle was tethered to this instant, seventies Abba songs filling the room from the television blending with domino card clacks, the staccato coughs and moans from those in their time-locked slumber around us, great-uncle, niece, great-nephew gathered around a serving table, being present, taking videos to slow down the string of time racing through fingers, holding on to the moment he said domino.
I am thankful to the editors of Loud Coffee Press for publishing this poem, “If We Remember.”
Link: (Page 8)
www.loudcoffeepress.com/lcp-issue-20
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