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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
    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,
    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,
    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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