Danaus Plexippus—We Are Made of Time

we are made of time—

sleepy transformations,
a luminous orange kaleidoscope

danaus plexippus
fluttering through grey matter,

lucid driftings,
babel in the bloodstream.

fidget 

shovel
turn the dirt over—
a horse, a lake,
a sweet grandmother.

the last tractor ride,
dance, air banjo,
a daylily sunset,
the smell of freshly cut grass—

eyes wide,
smile widening
in the early current of memory.

elephant strength,
command maximus:
the soleus,
the spinal extensors,
tibialis anterior—
all the machinery of standing,
walking,
becoming.

under attack:
the face of confusion,
holes opening
in the labyrinthine.

a lethargic bivouac,
a cluster of forgotten names
hiding in the milkweed,
a winnowing of self.

and then
the profound quietness—

calm,
sitting vigil,

one last sunset

breath
in the green grass.

monarch metamorphosis.

dynamic reconstructions,

memory is not stored in the brain

we are made of time:
justice, senescence,
second infancy—

a broken rock
on the hill,

a hardened hero,

opening

closing

winnowing 

a wizened hand
of an old man.

in mine,

it is time itself
that stores memory.