by Ethel Mortenson Davis
We are going
to a movie
in Minneapolis.
He spoke.
Brokeback Mountain
is showing,
he grinned.
A willing mother,
surrounded by a sea
of young men,
A twinkling
In his eye —
a captured memory
in a wind of thoughts.
Captured Memory
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
wonderful depiction of how presence, through memory, persists.
Thanks, Steven. Our thoughts go with you. Ethel
That’s very delicately handled, Ethel. Congratulations again.
Thank you. An idea I’ve had for awhile. Ethel
Such an effective verbal snapshot of a moment; the kind that shows much that flows below the surface. This is what makes a snapshot special.
A verbal snapshot is an interesting name. Thanks. Ethel
It seemed appropriate to describe what you achieve here, Ethel.
Oh, those last two lines! Perfect description of the memories that whisper back to us. What was ordinary at the time becomes priceless. Beautiful, Ethel.