Selective Memory

In every era of my life
I focus on what’s hard, groom with sighs.
Embracing moments, sure—
A student’s shine, three small detours,
Two diving laughs, a friend’s door,
Her fire road, his midnight pledge—
All while standing on a great ledge,
The dark vertigo of what more.

My boney, endless needs.
Here and there agree to disagree.
From plains to hills
To plains from hills
And back to hills again.
Looking back from every here
Old ledges disappear
Or hone the beauty pain.

It seems my life is lovely, high or low,
And I’ll look back to now—
As black waves build to steal
My sweetest love into the deep,
And I am wind- and salt-stung, wading, braced—
And recall only the shore of him: solid, free,
Suction-soothed, grains shifting softly under me,
The moon waning in the morning grace.


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