With a hesitation I take a deep breath
not certain what sigh holding what
story may escape surprising me with
time and place and details nearly
forgotten, barely remembered. Then
the clarity of the past brought into
the present enhanced by imagination
whose details are concerned with
meaning the nearly forgotten, barely
remembered bring. I don’t know how
these sighs collect what they bring,
what prompts the once-upon-a-time
beginning that so often unnerves me
then demands, smilingly, a thank you.
I know how the present changes the past
and the implications of the past not
affecting any present moment the way
we’ve been told they do. I sigh a lot these
days, hear once-upon-a-time, sit down until
the sigh ends, the echoes haunting where I am.
-Byron Hoot
