Mnemonic Strategies

Weathered boards, nailed to poles,

provide a starting place,

even though the letters are gone.

This is historical property

and maybe the pebbles underfoot

have once been walked upon

by Tamerlane or Ghengis Khan.

Where now are those ancient valleys

unlimbered on maps of the mind,

where powerful fountains disperse the news

and flags disappear in cerulean skies?

There along the crest of the hill

where the fabulous Mamelukes waited

silhouettes of a new iron age,

heartless, growling and blind,

thoughtlessly crawl along the road.

Though the roadside walkers never wave

and the path itself is mute,

the oak leaves dancing by the stream

bear a message as old as eyes.