Art and Remembrance

 What is art but the breadcrumbs

 

         we leave behind as we enter the dark forest,

 

              in hope that we will be found—

 

                        or at least remembered.

 

Bach’s notes strewn along the path,

 

        Georgia O-Keefe’s flowers

                      

                  Mary Oliver’s perfect words

 

They will never be alone in the world to which they’ve flown.

 

 

And they keep us company in our aloneness, give us comfort 

 

as we step, cautiously,

 

 into the black woods, 

 

steering us away

 

from the witch’s cottage.