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  • From somewhere near yet gone

    the sweeping rush of memories

    like wind among the fallen leaves

    like waves against the shore

    here,

    then gone again

    Today, driving to work,

    lights strung along the highway,

    destinations mere twinkles,

    I remembered:

    Driving the Maine Pike to Boston

    a pale sun in a milky grey sky,

    trees gaunt and late winter bare

    cars rimed with salt,

    tapping time to the radio

    another traveller in line

    when suddenly, amidst the ordered flow,

    a car going the wrong way

    parting the traffic sea

    leaving us scattered

    mere aimless flotsam

    caught by a rogue wave’s pull

    Moments, sharp as broken glass

    when seeing and believing disengage,

    when the kaleidoscope shifts,

    no-way moments

    out of synch, out of nowhere,

    when chaos, long gone and buried,

    awakens.

    Sudden and immediate,

    these moments that birth new realities.

    The narrowest of margins separate us

    from the unconceived and unimagined;

    places you read about in myth,

    legend,

    other peoples’ headlines.

    But, amidst the rustle of stirring memory

    the barrier is breeched,

    and, now and then

    we step across.

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