I woke up today on the train in the Pennsylvania fog
Gray mist full to bursting with light
Soft this time, but with the weight of memories of a time
When mists were sharp
…..And clouds etched the surface of my skin
……….And fog fractured my body
The light grows warm, and differences glow
Spaces stretch between trackside flashes–glimmer, glow, glint, and flash again–
Memories ricochet off passing images–a voice, a glimpse, a brief passage, now and then–
What I see flying by window is mine and mine alone, you have your own net of edges
The forest is thick here, the spaces between trees more subtle than at home
Differences here align with possibilities, not disconnection
Maybe the fog holds it together
…..The fog that blew it all apart
Droplets forgive: they refract, not reflect
…..I’ve given up on reflection
…..Mirrors lie
It’s a simple trick, but hard to pull off
…..A trick of vision
……….A trick of memory
To see through the mist now settling over the green ground
…..Becoming dew
There’s connection where loss once was
…..Things fall apart, then come back together
Something about a lost connection, a memory flashes by:
The space between here and then
Held open by the pressure of millions of tiny droplets
I woke up today on the train in the Pennsylvania fog
I remember this cold mist, now golden
…..And a time when it didn’t feel so friendly
And now for my next trick…
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