Memory

It’ s an overload it’s too much
and when it gets too much you delete
Our son says so Don’t worry
if you forget a name an event
you have deleted it to make room
since our memory is a broom
cleaning out corners Well Possibly
yet I’m clutching a large bouquet
filled with dusty sun fragrance
a sharp sweet scent lodged
for years in some misty and dark recess
where the old train huffs on the tracks
and I weep into lilacs
as Sergei’s eyes hold mine