from any chance moment
wherever you happen to be
like light and dark dancing
across the forest floor
memory without warning
will step out from a phrase
to raise the ancient dead
the way dust devils
on cool autumn afternoons
will twirl lifeless leaves into the air
like moon-pale bacchants
arms twisting above their heads
then within your next thought
let fall still trembling to the ground
leaving you ashamed for some act
of cowardice or petty remorse
at best remembered less if at all
and then only as a trace of flame
flickering shadows upon a wall
(December 21, 2020)
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