It’s an adage, but true, that to remember
something you forgot, go back to the spot
you thought of it, and it will return to you.
I think of she who loves me everywhere I go,
leaving memory markers behind like floats
buoying up a fishing net. I have only to move about
to catch her in the wet weaves;
and never forget, that I love her too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.