A rehearsal begins
with you directing the alchemy of irrecoverability . . .
Memories, a form of imagination,
conjure a renewed connection
to a lifetime of incidentals
as the elements of style slip into oblivion . . .
This melodrama of not knowing what you'll find
fills a roll-off with misrememberings . . .
You have no idea anymore . . . and this is good . . .
That was long ago . . .
These things happen . . . and will happen again
despite effortss to block happenstance . . .
Now you're running lines for a one-act at a crossing . . .
The hydraulics are about to fail
and there will be other failures . . .
Are they worth chalking up? . . .