Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

I Remember It Well

Sometimes, we don’t remember the details exactly as they really happened. And maybe, after all, the devil really is in the details.

I remember it well,
I said,
and you said
but I did anyway.

you looked so-
no, really, you did.
and I laughed to your telling
as you told about
him and, um…

I remember it well.
we took the five
and arrived
and, well,
you know.

It was hot that day,
your hair long
and let down.
I wore that shirt
you never liked.
and you handed me-
no, really, you did.

well, anyway,
we walked through
the park.
I think mid-afternoon.
are you certain?

I remember it well.
your perfume tickling
my nose
and that scarf
wild in the breeze
but I thought…
I was so sure.

did we have coffee?
I thought not.
it snowed.
oh, yes-August
of course

did I have the Buick
are you sure?
was your mother-
no, I suppose not

uh huh,
but I did love you,
did I not?
and you me?
of course.
I remember it well.