There Again! Or There!

Mind’s in the attic again,
Memory in memory’s
Palace of moth-eaten thoughts.

Mind moves like Hera moving
Like the mind from place to place,
Memory to memory,

Picking up one, then the next,
As instantaneously
As if there were no distance

Between remembered places,
Since there isn’t, not really,
Until mind plops in a heap

Of threadbare recollections,
A mind in a cloud of dust.
Having saved so many things

To see none of them were saved,
To see them disintegrate
Before the whole palace falls.