This Thing, for Instance

Something is happening in the past.
Something is happening to the past.
In fact, that’s all that ever happens.

Every glance you take, your past has changed.
Where the change came from you can’t quite say.
It’s just there, and there, and there again.

It seems to come from the past itself.
It seems to churn in the past itself.
Monitoring and analyzing

The past obsessively seems the best
Way to be able to live with it,
But you can never really know it.

Something is happening in your past.
All kinds of surprises hide in it.