Garden

I was going to build a garden, I said.

They asked how I could build something so inarticulate as a garden.

I said I would show them.

But then I forgot.

So how does one build a garden? Plant the ground with stones, sift the pebbles with dreams, water the flowers with memory... but what flowers? These flowers that grow here, I do not remember them. I did not plant them. But I remember watching as they grew.

The photograph shows Karen and Lamael and I planting... something. It is autumn. The leaves are golden and drifting around us as we kneel before the future. The light drifts down in motes among the drifting leaves, illuminating our smiles. You can almost see the laughter... It is a beautiful memory.

But it did not happen.

I remember only snow and darkness and mud. I remember the seeds bursting shoots through the stones as I laid the foundation. I remember none of the planting.

The photo is wrong. It is not a memory, only an image. It did not happen.

All I have is remembering.