The Last Sky

This body lasts about as long as a bubble may as well let it go things don’t often go as we wish who can step back doesn’t worry we blossom and fade like flowers we gather and part like clouds I stopped thinking about the world a long time ago relaxing all day in a teetering hut

Si l’ambition suprême est la mémoire collective, la hantise est l’oubli. Peu importe la mort, elle viendra. Peu importe la guerre, on ne la refuse pas. Peu importe le sacrifice : chacun l’accepte (Hélène en offre la plus noble illustration). Peu importe la souffrance physique, elle est le lot de tous. Ce que le Grec redoute, c’est l’anonymat. Le na

MEMORY: WHERE OUR VANISHED DAYS SECRETLY GATHER

That formidable head is where my mother houses all her conscious memories. A complex stellar skein spun from infancy to old age. The images are manifold, encompassing her ancestors and her descendants. We all constellate in that brain of hers and we endure, shining on, because she sustains us. At her age, the exercise of memory is hard work. Summon