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If there were one moment to freeze, let it be
the dance on the patio in the backyard, all of us
in a line stepping to the left, the right,
now lifting our legs and turning, hands clapping, and all
of this in synchronized silence—
the silence memory imposes so you can
see your life purely, without the complication
of having lived it. There are moments
like this that seem so orderly. No one
can hear the director off screen, shouting instructions.
No one knows that ahead of you lie
the Great Falls, the strangers, the terrible joys
you’ll nearly die from, their dark
hands shaking your heart. Behind you
nothing but packing and unpacking and
all the uncertainty of your parents slamming
against each other in their fear of loving
too much or too little. Right now this one scene might
as well be your life, sweet, organic. Memory
has caught us, dancing in the backyard,
all of us stepping and turning
together, just like a family.