The Emergence of Memory

Laynie Brown


His unset eyes- containing water become expression, or color.  They
cloud in changing- though the change is never marked,  it may
eventually be seen.

The cloud is green

His hand is light

He watches this first finding- pulling a hand in and out of a living
His newness betokens him all color.  He passes through color- setting
each resonance for light.

The sound includes experience which is remembered from not remote
occasions which swell upon his passing.  Looking up with different
thought filled hands.

Why then does experience comb the onlooker away from the child, when
the child includes changing eyes in every picture?


No bridges between thought replace light

He walks past the water which tilts the hem of misgivings

Wind waves are invisible yet sightings occur constantly
They contain the same underpinning

There is no setting for light,  that which falls when unbound to
ankles, envelops one like a shroud.  To see the water walking past was
this type of borrowed cloak, color beneath the black crayon portrait.

But then this water may not be worn, may not be touched, or  is to be
touched momentarily as she might embrace a drawing of a swan.


Is a child a drawing of a swan if time moves to replace bridges between
thought?  Then he may only be embraced momentarily since he will have
by then outgrown the accumulation of fitting frames, and walked past
his own settings for light, his version of touching water which remains
unbound, surrounding him as no portrait ever might.  But then this is
far into the future and possibly untrue when considering the instance
she might embrace a drawing of a swan occurs continuously in memory.


The body is permitted to recline here.  There is silence as well as
conversation.  Bodies collapse together in a rhythm which does not
distinguish time.  There is a form of privacy which is willing not to
reply.  The form is then sewn and must be at times guarded, well worn
into elsewhere.  It breaks the present to be taken.

Another might say the present is perpetually broken, the present occurs
anywhere, but roams a different conversation than the one which may
befall a ready spectrum.


The child did not know he had a memory.

He stops then, how will he remember?

The conscious attempt to remember will occur much later, whereas today
he remembers "up" and reaches - lifting two trains above his head. 
This does not stop him, not knowing he will not remember.  He smiles at
his reflection still unknowingly.  Containing himself what is to be

Flower by umbel,   gesture by thought,  voice from room.


The relation between memory and sight is ambient language, used to
describe events before speech.

'Yesternight,'  he has seen his reflection, but with no recognition.

He remembers only later what has passed- In which color will he robe
his self knowing reflection?

So an event does not occur within actual time.  The action, elapsed,
does follow, awaiting an appropriate opening.

He creates an imagined seascape, and along this untold coast, he


Now sound recurs. The pretend coast emerges.  This has all passed- and
yet it has not along the pretend coast- which may be represented by the
color of unset eyes.

He emerges wet, noting the difference between touch and immersion.

Thus the word 'pretend' is inferior to it's purpose. There is nothing
pretend about  the pretend coast, except the notion of misplacement.


He remembers first pretend  is not forgotten:  memory as bright
estuaries which flitted boats pass in reference to curves.

Half-remembered vision of a bud once seen something from out of which
broke red, and broken, then silken.

Sky is intimate only as it unfolds within.  He wears a rose coast. 
Fabric enfolding sleep, a curtain.

His face consists of watching embers, pale yellow, away towards the
half remembered bud.

What is this body, he asks,  whereby I am within, the half remembered,
once seen sky enfolding, not able to turn, to lift one's head, alone,