poem index

The Emergence of Memory, 1

Laynie Browne
His unset eyes — containing water — become expression, or color. 
They cloud in changing — though the change is never marked, it 
may eventually be seen.

The cloud is green

His hand is light

He watches this first finding — pulling a hand in and out of a living 
His newness betokens him all color. He passes through color — 
setting each resonance for light.

The sound includes experience which is remembered, though from 
not remote occasions, which swell upon his passing. Looking up with 
different thought filled hands.

Why then does experience comb the onlooker away from the child, 
when the child includes changing eyes in every picture?

Copyright © 2005 by Laynie Browne. From Drawing of a Swan before Memory. Reprinted with permission of the University of Georgia Press.

Laynie Browne

by this poet



for I have taken refuge in you

A book —whose wings— swallow me

Bird, created from water mixed with sand

Uses of wings, and claws hold oil for lamps 

Conceiving a wing-ed book is beginning to sort one's thoughts

An egg placed under the foot of a bedframe— to steady 

Quills for