MEMORIES

Yes, I remember now, he said,
But it's a long way back
His eyes went back and his mind went back
Past turnings in the road, past history turnings
Around corners of a lost self,
Through heart darkness and gut darkness,
Back, back, till we both called him
In spasm of fear; he was past hearing
For chaos of centuries and speech tangle,
For race root and tribe root and pulse thunder,
Where he stood dressed in his old clothes
Of alluvial water with the green ribbon
Of weed for binding and chains of his breath
Swaying upward, still to be climbed.