Forgetting La Grande Vitesse

We moved together
hand in hand
Step by step
Swinging back and forth
imitating things we’d seen
things we thought cool.

And in another life
we wouldn’t have found that place.
And in another life
we wouldn’t have met.

And every mid-summer evening
in that other life
would not be full.
And every mid-summer evening
in that other life
would be filled with memories
I might otherwise find
delightful
with only the hesitation of mind
that blip on the mental radar
indicating
that there could have been something more.

And with a flick of the head
a blink
or just a passing thought
the meaning of it would disappear
without ever having formed
without ever having meant a thing.

So happy am I
not to have lived
that other life.

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