Who is responsible for the remembering?

not our minds, gone in lucid serpentines 

down the San Rafael: temporary, paradisial.


I seek a deeply rooted branch

a firm grasp on the slick banks 

of today's lazy, shivering current.


I want to run aground, stand on solid ground

I want to stand bare-toed in emery clay

I want to learn the names of all the flowers.