Memory Is Living Matter

A good day is good
In itself of course,
And some will tell you

To just savor it—
It’s only present.
But there’s a value

Left from a good day,
Beyond nostalgia
Or wishing it back.

Sometimes, the sheer force
Of plain memory
You can never share,

That’s not important,
Does not serve the world
Or moral struggles,

Can push a grass blade,
A bar of sunlight
Out of and into

Your dark, loamy thoughts.
You lived that good day,
Once. It lives in you.