Travelogue from the River of Lethe
The sign said, "Step in,
Beautiful!"
I wanted to shed memories
like clothes
on a summer day.
Wanted to shed time,
not tears. My choice,
toe in.
I remembered your face,
your runner’s tone,
your lure. You insisted
I was beautiful.
One toe, I told myself.
I remembered that Galway
spoke of a difficult time
finding the path through the forest
toward the end, that Bly
read everything twice.
I remembered your beauty, though
the river promised no regrets.
You were there, fishing
for the forgetful.
This time, I didn’t bite.
This poem was presented at the North American Review Writing Conference, April 21, 2019.