The Tragic Dysfunction of Memory

bare hands and water
strings
and green bottles
rolling in the grass
bubble wands
and dandelions
sticks floating away
into nowhere
and i can't remember
the taste of
believing
in something

i wonder
when i was small
all blue eyes and blonde ponytails
did i take what they fed me
back then?
did i ever
really
wish upon stars?
on birthday candles
and three-leaf clovers
one split to make four
begging for luck

i don't remember.
i don't think i did.

i had a trophy, once
an angel made of gold-tone plastic
arms raised, proclaimed
that i had memorized
the lord's prayer
in summer bible school.
i asked questions
no one would answer.
i said the words they told me to say
and they smiled
and said i was doing
good
i did not correct their grammar
i still think they believed
that's what they meant.

i almost got there
almost thought there might be something to
the things they said
the things you said

woke up in the grass
sun coming up over the mountain ahead
hair damp with condensation dripped down
from the sky
blinked myself wide open
bare hands
empty
world clear as anything
i'd ever seen
and not a thing beyond
but black
and cold.