The Unremembered Times

The Unremembered Times

If a thing happens
and no record of it remains
in our inner hall of records

we should not say it has been forgotten

There will always be a giving back
of what has brought joy or softened joy
or dopey contentment
or pain
though the duller sensations will wriggle free first

The car-bound afternoon and park passed three thousand times
An unremarkable bagel
The darkened rooms where you left yourself in sleep

Yellow light in red-headed trees and a free hour
A bridge to show you a new corner of a place
that became beloved

This is not a sloughing off
What dissolves is gone
but only from visibility