Fortunate Absences
spaces in the attic now empty boxes
the garage resorted, cleared of former uses
songs not heard for decades creeping back
scraps of lyric and melody, then a search
for its fellows, its competition
some blues riffs played upside up
novels read forgotten even while rereading
toothaches over, exes’ names almost forgotten.
Certain absences behind what can be shed
that can’t be, some things not things
shedding uncovers, allows.
We are these fortunate absences
content to be useless, undeserving, leaking out
from unlikely but suggestive hybrids
unexpected, more mood than thought:
freedom, joy, and equanimity noted while moving on.
The Dog Star 
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