Giant Irish Elk Antlers

Humans are to memory as whales
To lungs, condors to wings, giraffes
To necks, aspens to clones, bristlecone

Pines to windy years, and yet, humans
Forget—forget and have forgotten
Over and over again, things were different,

Much different for most humans most
Of human existence—even as full humans,
You were low in numbers a long time,

A network of little, forgetful rhizomes
Thin on the ground, only gradually
Accumulating the collective recollection

That would grow you huge numbers, grow
In you as your numbers grew, grow until
Now it takes a lifetime for any one of you

To learn the burden of others’ memories
You carry in your skull—you were emptier
Once and lighter in the head, more active,

And you had far, far fewer stories and less
In the way of any elaborate repertoire—
Your ancestors’ skulls were quieter places

Occupying quieter air and not so long ago
As you might think, since you think one life
At a time, although billions fill your head.