The Book of Forgetting
I remember wind, but this music is new
Your face—hello, old friend.
That name I knew you by?
How I spend my days?
sparrow, sparrow—and now the squirrel, leaping
I open my mouth—saxophone elbows sousaphone,
the closet of musical instruments a jumble
Such a short distance to walk.
Falling? I never fall.
Immense space beyond quiet—
was this what the Buddha knew?
What I did yesterday—
a blank page
Robin Chapman’s poems have appeared recently in Alaska Quarterly Review, Prairie Schooner, Wilderness, and Valparaiso Poetry Review. She is author of seven books of poetry, most recently Abundance and the eelgrass meadow.