ON THE CUSP OF RECALL

The woman holds
a basket woven from
spiders-web silk.
It's filled
with traditions
forgotten,
and she wanders
through
the sleeping city
trying to remember
the architecture
of love,
the customs
that combine
to make a life.
She feels close
to grasping
the notion,
but before
her mind
can get a fix—
it separates
and she is
left tremulous
with despair.