The Arrival of the Past

The Arrival of the Past by

You wake wanting the dream

you left behind in sleep,

water washing through everything,

clearing away sediment

of years, uncovering the lost

and forgotten. You hear the sun

breaking on cold grass,

on eaves, on stone steps

outside. You see light

igniting sparks of dust

in the air. You feel for the first

time in years the world

electrified with morning.

You know something has changed

in the night, something you thought

gone from the world has come back:

shooting stars in the pasture,

sleeping beneath a field

of daisies, wisteria climbing

over fences, houses, trees.

This is a place that smells

like childhood and old age.

It is a limb you swung from,

a field you go back to.

It is a part of whatever you do.