Mnemonic by: Li- Young Lee

I was tired. So I lay down.
My lids grew heavy. So I slept.
Slender memory, stay with me.

I was cold once. So my father took off his blue
sweater.
He wrapped me in it, and I never gave it back.
It is the sweater he wore to America,
this one, which I’ve grown into, whose sleeves are too
long.
Flamboyant blue in daylight, poor blue by daylight,
it is black in the folds.

A serious man who devised complex systems of numbers and rhymes
to aid him in remembering, a man who forgot nothing, my father
would be ashamed of me.
Not because I’m forgetful,
but because there is no order
to my memory, a heap
of details, uncatalogued, illogical.
For instance:
God was lonely. So he made me.
My father loved me. so he spanked me.
It hurt him to do so. He did it daily.

The earth is flat. Those who fall off don’t return.
The earth is round. All things reveal themselves to
men only gradually.

It won’t last. Memory is sweet.
Even when it’s painful, memory is sweet.

Once I was cold. So my father took off his blue
sweater.

I truely enjoyed this poem and the images that were displayed. This poem takes me back to the age of 5. when I would lay across my grandmothers couch while my mother was working. Once she thought I was asleep she would cover me up with a blanket making sure I was perfectly warm. Although my grandmother has passed I miss her warm and comforting embrace dearly. I thank Li-Young Lee for giving me this sweet memory and making me feel close to home.