in the form of this river
and sway over the realm
of memory. It was her waters
that gave us the gift of remembering.
Crossing Mnemosyne
Thanatos drew me to a battered boat
tied to a dock at the bank of the river.
‘It is safe,’ he told me,
seeing the hesitance in my features.
To demonstrate, he stepped in first,
and gestured with his scythe for me to get in.
I followed his movements
and stepped into the vessel.
A soft sprinkling could be heard
as the gems scratched at the sides
of the little boat. But it appeared to be
made of good strong oak so it resisted.
I stared at the gems as they moved.
It was like they were floating.
‘Those are memories.’ Thanatos’ voice
seeped into my thoughts. He twisted his scythe
and the wood twisted to become
a long paddle, which he dipped into
the gemstones. The boat
moved uneasily through the current.
‘What you did took courage.’
‘What Took Courage?’ I Asked Him
‘Your audacity with Nyx.’
It surprised me that he did not refer to
the Goddess of the Night as his mother.
