False Memories by Halle Gulbrandsen

Tonight, May is a sweet pink
grapefruit, sliced in half.
Squeezed from clouds, sticky

rain tangos down my bare legs
and pools in my heels
like bunched socks. Hardly

do I notice. You and I
could be the only two people
left on this world right now

and I think I might be okay
with that. With feeling
like there’s nothing left

to survive through.
My mother survived men
and women all of her life. My father too

bears his own kind
of heartache. Here,
I’m only beginning

to realize life does not exist
without tremendous loss.
Each one blossoms a sun

spot on a shoulder, a hand.
Under sleeves and scarves,
our thorny will to survive. My own

being sometimes unwatered,
I admit. I’ve pressed curiously
into my centre to find I’m in need

of something, but don’t know
what. I’ve spent time and good
money on quality notebooks

I only ever half fill. In one,
the memory of a kite
surfing a field of wildflowers. Tea-steeped

in a mug by the television
as I learned more than 50%
of our memories are not memories at all.

Our minds take threads of truth
and weave fiction. For instance,
it wasn’t wildflowers—

it was auburn summer grass
encircled by a university track, my mother
corrects me. It was only once we did this,

kite flying. Before the sun spots
appeared in smoky constellations
across my confidence, before my self-love

cut in and out with the persistence
of radio static. Where was my antenna
and how could I extend it?

I’ve since found clarity
inside pink pearl skies, crisp
enough to bite into.

Even if most of my memories
are planted beneath a layer
of perpetual morning fog, or if I’m not

what the world expected
me to be, the wildflowers
are again in bloom. Come sit,

come watch the kites
bend like wet light
through changing leaves. Through

it all, the one thing I’ve found
to be true: I want to live,
not just live through.


This poem was featured in
Issue 08 of Canthius. “False Memories” was also the runner-up for the Priscila Uppal Memorial Award for Poetry in 2019.


Halle Gulbrandsen.

Halle Gulbrandsen is a Canadian writer and pilot. Her work has been previously published in Canthius, Prairie Fire, The New Quarterly, CV2 and On Spec Magazine. Her poem “False Memories” was chosen for second place in the 2019 Priscila Uppal Memorial Award for poetry.