This morning as I looked at the morning stars,
their vast, windswept array,
I remembered I had seen a shooting star
days before, streaking across the sky,
then disappearing. I had forgotten. Leaves
scuttled across the driveway. No lights were on
in the sleeping houses. And then, at just
that moment—the moment of remembering—
another! Flashing above the trees!
Like that. I’m not saying those two objects
were related, with their brilliant white
tails. No metaphysics is revealed. I’m saying
to believe is to remember, and what
we remember is gone. And never gone.