by C.B. Anderson

Though many past encounters beg to be made over,
There are a few we'd dearly love to live again
Precisely how they went when fields of summer clover
Left knees and elbows stained. Can I get an Amen?

Regarding old affairs which seem so nearly perfect
That not one part of them should change, the orthodox
Judiciary renders its oppressive verdict:
These bygone flings must be confined to the black box

Of memory, never eligible for parole
From Limbo's prison, per the convoluted reason,
Regret has been the normal rule throughout the whole
Of human history, and to capture out of season

Remembered satisfactions culled from aged reserves
Is just perverse -- or so they'll have us think. How awful,
Should anyone presume to fray their sober nerves
By doing what they've solemnly declared unlawful.


Hit PAUSE. Rewind. Replay. Return to that fine day
When hope was young and fat. Record the scattered thoughts
That gather on the village green without delay,
But segregate the vagrant wantings from the oughts.

© 2007 by C.B. Anderson



About the Author

C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Many scores of his poems have appeared in dozens of print and electronic journals. His e-chapbook, A Walk in the Dark, can be read on the website of The New Formalist Press.


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