I think about my frantic phone call home
realizing I had lost his horoscope
for getting
from the knowledge producer I knew
the one who had told me about the stars, the moon and my future…
being told my uncle was forgetting
I remember the panic when asked for his time of birth
( his, my son)
scrambled to the basement digging through diaries
for getting
his time of birth
but that was a time I was not recording
details
though the vision and feeling replayed
I dug further into the boxes he had packed and mailed to me more than 15 years ago
( he, my father)
knowing better than I did then that these books contained
knowledge
for I was to be the bard for his family
( his, my father)
he never told me that – but he knew and I knew
but
I forget
I forget
The baby book, the pediatrician’s handwriting, the size of his small head
all recorded
the time of birth
for getting
the horoscope work outsourced
by email
in languages I needed
my uncle to translate
the one who had forgotten where the papers were
a whisper haunted spoke
flashing a landscape from marine drive on a TV screen
as we watched the movie on netflix
my pre-memory flashed
you are the bard – the knowledge producer for the family
you must
re-
member….
whether you know it or not
whether you remember it or not
whether they hear you or not
you must
re-
member
