Memories of a Sensory Being

Mary Brunini McArdle

Concrete pavement on a scorching
Summer day, dusty under our bare feet —
Endless outdoor hours spread before us
As we dreamt...

The bridal gown with nipped-in waist,
And satin panels that cascaded down
To jewel-tipped toes;
Love-dazzled eyes reflected
In a champagne glass.

Grandmother’s ring, its emeralds
And its diamonds reminding us
Of downy moss and clover
Dripping dew;

The tabby with the golden eyes
That nestled in between us
And our partners; its purring
Prompting us to stretch
Our hands out over its soft fur
And clasp our fingers tight
In faithful reassurance.

Death allows us only memories
And the way we felt;
Our loves, our childhoods,
The accumulated goodness we achieved;
And all the wrongs
For which we need forgiveness.