Memory

Contributor: Suez Jacobson

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Six days in the canyon.
Its river,
Its wind, sand, and sun,
become my only reality,
quiet my existence,
make it simple.
Time measured
by sun and stars.
Then,
Up, out of the depths,
away from the magic.
Weeks pass,
in the city,
traffic, people,
noise, grit,
washed-out skies,
frazzled consumers,
lined up,
buying,
electronics everywhere.
And yet,
At night,
when my eyes close,
I see the red-rock walls,
hear the river,
imagine the stars,
and feel the earth,
the sand,
and the wind.
The canyon is mine.
It is part of me.
And I am grateful,
for memory.


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Economics professor trying to escape the numbers racket.