HARD DRIVE
He
would have willed
His
brain to Science
Except for what they might
find
Recorded, as if upon
A
computer hard drive.
He
had heard of people
Chopping them up,
Sacrifice of
Knowledge.
Browsing history, he
saw,
Could be erased.
Memory might be like that,
Vanished with a single
click.
But
he rather thought
It
was always somewhere
Deep inside
And
someone knew how to find it.
GOOD YEARS: A LOVE
SONG
August 24, 2011
I
wrote a haiku
And
put it out
For
her to find that day:
August
twenty-fourth:
Wedding
anniversary
Forty-eight good
years.
I
worried about not saying
Great, or wonderful,
Both of which were
true.
But
great rhymes
and
Wonderful doesn’t
scan.
I
meant good the
way
The
Army speaks of good
years,
Or
Social Security:
Years that count,
That count for
something.
In
any case,
They are the years
that
We
have had,
So
far.
AT
MY OLD SCHOOL
Things that have not
changed:
Cheerful earnestness,
Cell phones turned on,
BlackBerries.
Things that are new:
Faculty sign-out
sheet,
Hazelnut syrup
By
the coffee maker.
Robert Demaree, a retired educator, is the
author of four collections of poems, including Mileposts (2009), published by Beech
River Books. He has had over 550 poems published in 125 periodicals, including
The Aurorean, Avocet, Cold Mountain Review, Dead Snakes, Foliate
Oak, Louisiana Review, The Louisville Review, MediaVirus, miller’s pond,
Schuylkill Valley Journal, Tipton Poetry Journal and in the 2008 and 2010
editions of The Poets’ Guide to New
Hampshire. He lives in Wolfeboro, N.H., and Burlington, N.C.
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