Thoughts On Reading My Mentor's Death Poem

Jeremy Cantor

The amnesiac writing his autobiography
resigns himself to writing only his own eulogy
but finally finds himself barely able to write his own epitaph

I know we went to Vancouver
but only because I have the photographs
I know we raised two children
but only because I can see them

When this house was new I could hear at night
the racheting sound of the ring-necked pheasants
but lately the nights are quiet except for a sound
like a very small animal screaming in the woods