Night noises
startle me awake
from un-deep sleep.
I sit up quickly
and time rushes
at, around, over me.
I am swept up,
and hurtle past
days of hide-and-seek
in a musty Michigan basement,
of the sound of cicadas
and lawns being mowed.
Of parched hills and sprawling oaks,
of swim meets and high school crushes
and running on trails
under a blazing blue California sky.
Of fog blanketing a lost coast.
I grasp at these pictures
as if they were roots
growing along the banks of a fast-moving river
but my hands
and I am borne on
and on
and on.