Think of the Brain

Think of the brain:

glorified, vulnerable--

a snowy field

without footprints,

a glass bell hanging

in the library.

We've forgotten the palms,

the soles, the lips, the eyelids.

Victims of air,

of calloused mistake --

these are the doers, the knowers.

For to know is to try,

to touch every page, to stroll barefoot

through clean snow,

the bat of the eye,

to have kissed you.

When the glass bell tolls,

it shatters, delicately, and

everyone looks up to stare. See!

The brain is not for knowing, but

for remembering.