Memory

Memory is not a sieve
as though every moment was made
of the same fine dust

nor is it a steel trap
where they all pile up
in the stale air of time

it is more like a cat
aware of all the millions of moments
skittering past
but only pouncing on a few

and so as I let her plant handfuls of popcorn kernels
in our vegetable beds today
watching as she makes careful rows
nodding when she asks again

are you sure I can grow a popcorn tree

desperate for this moment to get some work done
I wonder will the cat inside her
want this memory
or will my little lie
slowly fade away.