Last night I saw a forgotten thing
I saw deep summer resting at twilight.
I heard the lazy hum machines make
And saw men push mowers to make perfume out of grapes.
I heard the dull rhythm of katydids,
And saw one last bird hurry home.
I heard children shout, "I'm free!"
And watched them hide and seek again.
I knew the wonder of fireflies
And felt the gentleness of wind.
I smelled the sweet-sour scent of cut grass mixed with dust.
I felt the security of sprawling in the grass to breathe deeply
And think of nothing, and just as the shy moon came up,
To feel the soft ache of remembering.