I Couldn't See You, Then
Memories are unexpected surges
I felt one Friday, and I didn’t want to forget again
pens, so to speak, are good for remembering
for solidifying, for rewriting, resignifying
that night we played a show at the Acadia
eleven years ago
I couldn’t see you then
the snow veiled my eyes and dusted the streets during our last song
it fell seventeen inches that night
everything was blurry—someone was trying to set me up,
someone asked you about me, strangely enough—
up until the moment we stepped outside, then
it slowed
snow makes everything seem silent, even in the city
where we stood on the corner of Cedar and Riverside with the band
wondering what to do next
you don’t just play a show and go home in your 20’s
a fine line between winter ambiance and panic
the snow piled like sand in an hourglass
I couldn’t see you then, but now
I like to imagine gentle flakes landing warmly on your already wispy hair
how could I not have noticed your winter blue eyes
as the snow lit up the night in a white glow?
I wish I could go back to that moment and glance at you
I couldn’t see you
short sudden surges shake our souls
before we silently continue on, it came
flooding back as I drove past the Acadia on my way to a broomball tournament
I mistakenly took the longer route out of habit, a familiar drive to work
a place I pass frequently, mindlessly
but a foot of snow at that intersection
forced me to remember, exactly eleven years ago to the date
we stood right there
pondering what to do next
it’s a wonder I’m licensed to drive under the influence of nostalgia
constantly batting away pesky scenes as they appear before me,
trying to see the road behind a thick layer of memories
I keep collecting them, too, as I age
there is scarce a place in this beautiful city that doesn’t make me remember
the trick, I think, is not to forget
I’ll refile this one under the many moments we shared
before we opened our eyes
but what it will sound like when I get home is,
“remember that gig we played in the blizzard?”
as we make dinner with our daughter