17 March 2015

she had red hair

& was quiet. Karen Nelson. a classmate writes to me that she's dead. I'm trying to bring back memories of her from when we were little. I look at pictures of us lined up against the stone structure that was Garford School. I look at the faces. some have stories. others no longer have names. we were so little then. we grew. we partd. we lived lives the others knew nothing of. & now we're calld elders. & each year there are fewer of us to try to remember the cloakrooms where we hung our leggings   to remember the snake dances at Halloween   to remember the candy store across the street.

I knew you very well Karen Nelson. but now I struggle to retrieve any memory. & what I think I remember I'm not sure I really remember.  so I count the little ones in the pictures who are dead now. & I think of us sitting in rows at our desks asking the questions that little ones ask. & wondering how many of us ever got the answers.

1 comment:

Bob said...

This is a touching entry today. Quite thought-provoking and beautiful.