Story:Invisible Cities/Kateri

CITIES & MEMORY

The script on a single piece of parchment bears the only known reference to Kateri.

We do not live by the sea anymore But I know what it is like to remember

Through the bright lens of childhood I thought those sun-filled days would last forever

But you were a son of Kateri, and you were looking beyond Lonely rocks in the midst of all that water

When we left our island lives behind for Kateri I wondered How could you and this vast expanse of land be so cold

Instead of the placid ocean, tiny waves lapped at lentic shores Instead of soft rains over tropical peaks, snow fell in summer

For my first spring in Kateri we planted trees in still-glacial ground My birthday presents were a tank of plant food and a flannel shirt

I wore it to school the next day, plaid instead of floral I accepted that Kateri does not allow shorts in April

We continued to work those fields of ice and mud and sometimes crops The trees broke their earthen prisons and stretched their arms heavensward

You said they would stand long after you were gone But I’d still rather have you here instead

It may not have seemed like that, when you were away in the clouds How fragile that time was, before the world plummeted

When the bird of paradise fell from the sky When you resented my wish to return to the sea

In that obscure confluence of obstinance and half-optimism You flew in circles, and I did not know how to reach you

I imagine you did not know how to reach me either Winter casts long shadows, words weigh heavier than steel

I did not have the courage or cruelty to tell you what you already knew I did not have the wisdom to understand what Kateri meant to you

Yet I learned, in time, to appreciate that little town’s treasures Looking back I can count the people and memories that made it so

When I gave your mother’s eulogy under the stained glass you cried When I memorialized the father you never really knew

And when I picture those fields where we recovered from our ruin There is always a sunset above the harvest, and pride shines in your eyes

Though I no longer liver in Kateri, I know you value when I visit Perhaps a few degrees south is the right distance between us

To walk Kateri’s simple streets again is to encounter those faces That inspired me to walk the path I walk today

We don’t have to talk about what wounds us Cervical nerves or money or how many beats a cow’s heart has left

Let us pray in that sacred space framed by stained glass Of scarred saints and turtles donated in your father’s name

Let us walk through those fields where oak boughs kiss the sky Where still you labor - on your own terms, of course

When we are finished, we will retire to our house of birchen hills As Kateri’s first frost paints the windows bone white

I cannot help it when I see above me a trail of vapor That I imagine it is still you guiding its wings

I know you will always answer when I call And you will always want to know when I will return

So although we cannot yet make those heavy decisions We can make small changes with grace

For I am no father, and God knows I could be a better son All I have left to commit is my spirit

So now it is time to leave again, little town by the lakes A city that has earned its place in our pantheon of homes

As we soar southward in our rusted silver chariot Airborne waves bring us songs of decades past

Of boys of summer and suns that go down alone How blessed I am to be one and not the other

And I am content to fall asleep against the passenger window You cannot turn your head to the right anyway

But I like to think that each trip brings us a little closer Even though we will continue to make the same little mistakes

If there is one thing you have taught me, it is endurance And if there is one thing I hope you will learn, it is acceptance

It is possible you will never again call those seaborne stones home I wonder the same about myself, if I will cherish them only in memory

I will always be one to cloak myself in nostalgia And though the future I envision is one that mirrors the past

Perhaps a thousand lakes can hold the depth of an ocean’s soul And all it takes to melt the snow is to reach out and embrace it

We do not live by the sea anymore But I want you to know what it is like to remember

''The piece of parchment lies in a blank envelope. There is no signature.''