The Memory of Language

Thanks to us, you can pretend
That when you’re gone you’ll still be

Remembered by the voices,
In the letters, maybe books,

The recorded discussions
Of those like you still living,

But who is there, what is there
To remember languages

Once we have dissipated
Into whatever quanta

You claim can keep us all safe?
We are the bridges built you

Multigenerational
And towering memories.

Who could possibly recall—
Even landing aliens—

The beauty of our bridges
Through thousands of rotations

Of this little planet, once
All your bridges have been burned?