Sand and Sky

Before I Forget
David Denny
June 1, 2024
Memoir: Covered bridge in Kokomo
Should I be surprised at how unnerving it is to write a memoir? My mother died of Alzheimer’s disease, so someday I may forget who I have been. I better finish the story before it’s too late. I recently reread a poem I wrote years ago, a kind of memoir in fewer than two hundred words. It includes references to adventures in Afghanistan and Brazil, to early love, to swimming in the Bay of Fundy and Michigan’s Crystal Lake, to aromas, animals, and objects that conjure a world of meaning, emotion and gratitude. So in case it takes a while for the unabridged version, here is a glimpse of my life in a list.

Some Important Things

Jasmine, Because you may have to cross a Tunis alley flowing with sewage.

Pilau, Because you can hear the muezzin of Kabul, see the lost Buddhas of Bamiyan, and remember holding hands with Syed Ahmad in a world now rubble and blood.

Cashews, Because they grow wild in Guajerutiua and you can eat the fruit few Hoosiers have ever seen.

Shrimp, Because the naked fishermen of Guajerutiua heaped them into my empty pan.

Macaroons, Because you made them and they are as close as I ever came to tasting you.

Fresh clams, cold beer, and wild strawberries Because the sun shone at Mavillette and we shivered out of the salty bay.

Peanuts and cinnamon hearts, Because their salt and spice were the end of a day spent splashing in liquid turquoise.

Piñon smoke, sheepdogs, sleepy-eyed donkeys,
sweet mint tea, red covered bridge, black ice skates …

Because, because,

Because …

Contents

2 Comments

  1. Pat
    Pat on June 2, 2024 at 12:37 pm

    Reads like THE modern-day epic poem. Can’t wait for the unabridged version.

    Reply
    • David Denny
      David Denny on June 6, 2024 at 9:22 am

      Thanks, Pat! You encourage me.

      Reply

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