I throw a slightly baited hook
into memory wanting something
to appear but not too big almost
certain I’d prefer such a memory
to get away and refuse me the chance
to bring it in. There are things in the past
too big for a morning like this to hold
so I have used a small piece of bait
of remembering to lure a moment
or two to me: a remembered song,
a whiff of perfume, a woman passing
casting a memory. Some moment that doesn’t
hold gain and loss, a blues riff of the heart,
love held and lost. . . . I’m beginning to
think I don’t have any other moments
that gave what these did. Reel my line in,
know I don’t need to bait the past at all:
what will come will come.
Once again remember it’s better to receive
than to ask for what I don’t need.
I think I’ll just float on this stream.
-Byron Hoot
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