by Gideon Burton
Oblivion, sweet gift from passing time
unburdening the psyche from the weight
and pull of every petty thought. The crime
of memory is her shifty sifting, great
events passed over, lesser ones retained
as though they were the center and the core:
a dozen words ill spoken seem the same
as constitutional amendments -- even more.
Poor memory is like a welcome sleep,
a margin buffering us from the past,
a moratorium from things too deep,
a chance for things to sort from first to last.
If every moment kept, how high the cost
for recollection's savor would be lost.
Photo: flickr - Alex No Logo