Rewind the days and look
out again at what you saw
before, a premonition to
the freeze, and the summer
before last when time was
no thing. You were selfish and
sad, unruly and uneven, so
you broke apart others while
refusing to be broken.
.
Rewind further, and there you
are, far away, looking for
a quiet place to die –
but now it’s memory, memories like night
birds, flying in reverse in the dark, with
no need for eyes, just winds
and instincts, quiet as the sky.
.
Death becomes an
abstraction, like the curves
of space, and before that
we were all ruthless
again, clueless and
savage, but at least for
a while, armed to the
teeth, believing
we were
in control.
…rewind
