Time Warp

He pops in 

from time to time.

And when he's gone,

It's like he almost was never here.

The ghost of him lingers,

And it seems impossible

that he exists in my life today.

The reality that is handed to me, one contrary to the facts, is this:

He was a lifetime ago.

How can someone in the present

Leave their memory in the distant past?

It is happening to me

Every single time I see him.


He was a lifetime ago.

I have those long-ago memories of innocence and beauty

and music
and soft kisses.

Forever 
wrapped around me forming a cocoon
of who I am.

Helping me to hope

that my future will be 

as sweet as the past.

Then a crack forms,

and a blast of light enters.

We share a cup of coffee

and wildflowers

and hold pinkies

while the june-bugs sing.

Or we throw a blanket

on a hill

in the freezing cold

to watch the stars twinkle 

and light our way.

When the truck lights fade,

the memory of yesterday

becomes something

so far away

that it is almost
as if
we created a breach
in space and time. 

Last night, as I looked at the candle wax

on my dresser 

I felt this paradox of time.

Then, I had a thought:

What if, instead of putting memories in the past

we are touching a future?

And since the future cannot exist in our minds yet,

The only place for the memory to reside

Is the place where it began.