One of the items I cherish most
is a star shaped paperweight
made of brass and smeared with
that eternal moss which grows
on metal after enough years elapse.
Back when it shined like god's eyes
we lived in the apartment where
we kept the windows open
to save on the electric bill, and we used
the weight to hold down love notes on the desk.
I suppose it will outlive
most things I own: my books,
the car, my new home,
-even my own life-
due to its heavy simplicity.
Every now and then I lift it
to check if it weighs as much as I remember
and I look at the inscription you
engraved at the bottom of the metal star:
forever yours, your name, and date we met.
Then I confirm that for any
given volume, memories
are far heavier than brass.
DQ 12/26/08
