(october)

A quiet afternoon
in October,
I remember
a day
a year & 12 days ago
that felt like this.
When I had returned
to my life,
like walking
into a room I didn’t
recall leaving.
Cliche to say, it seems
just a minute ago,
but true.
And I know this
about time,
that it does not
live where we
imagine.
Well, yes, it does
reside there –
in imagination
that is –
but not where we
think we put it.
That day was
this morning,
as much as
this morning was.
The person I just
cried over
was living then,
I had not yet
got a stain
on my new shirt.
I did not even
own it yet.
I had not phoned
a friend to say,
Happy Birthday,
nor laughed
as we just did
about becoming
nature poets
because nothing else
is going on.

10/20/99