pay the ferryman with a coin he will bear you across the river of forgetfulness but find your own way to me feel my palm, cold as tubers reignite those memories you thought the ferryman swept behind you with a stroke of his oar the life you cannot recall I will remember for you for nothing beneath the living is lost to me, save myself all that comes from the earth was once mine in these dark halls and, unlike my husband, I covet more than wealth remember for me a meadow’s arms flung open to the sun, enticing Apollo with languidly-bent flowers, alluring and heavy with nectar morning mist climbing the cliffs (were you born there?) rosemary tasting Poseidon’s briny breath with a hundred green tongues Did Alcyone find peace? or stillness, at least - her father calmed the waters and the wind for seven days, while my mother weeps until the grains bow with snow, and my father looks to his many children but seldom the villagers mourn because they are hungry let them taste the bitterness of pomegranate seeds the roses on the far islands are unfurling their blooms, and the ones without thorns are all gathered up remember for me, now - what happens next?
Cameryn Araduke is a tea-sipping wordslinger whose weapon of choice is a smoky lapsang souchang. She writes straightforward fantasy, space bending science fiction, and all kinds of poetry. Born in Tokyo, she has since lived in Moscow, Vladivostok, Bishkek and Juneau. Her greatest regret is that Scrabble does not allow place names.