How will I remember, this summer where life death knocked at our doors and flower bushes were plenty colourful and friends would pass me by on the street like familiar ghost souls?
How will I remember, this evening where I sat in an empty theatre listening to Elvis crooning loneliness and hugged myself to fear and cried at the weight confusion of family journeys under the wind gray moon?
How will I remember, this dreaming of a boy gone to his own ocean away dream, dreaming so hard the time passing becomes a guilty relief and fear, dreaming so true I forget his unknown-ness to me?
How will I remember to remember, those easy joys that did not need words to save them or supplant them, that spark in my eye, perennial youth, perennial belief?
Summer! Summer! Summer! Your mystery is my memory.