Cocteau Twins in the Golden Light

I tripped on a sunbeam for the first time in six months and remembered 

all of the things I had forgotten about the summer

Like spreading my fingers out of the driver’s side

to feel the wind’s fresh warmth run between them

Or blasting “Cherry Coloured-Funk” and laughing at the 

unspoken competition at the stoplight

I had forgotten about racing to the bar and watching the 

antics of the avenue unfold before sunset

The sweat on our brows imitating the ice-cold drips on our

cans of Genesee pints

I had lost all memory of the golden hour or the transcendence

of a moment spent in its short-lived sight

There were things I remembered, surely, but none of them

captured the essence quite right

Like the protective arms of winter letting go, there is no telling

when the changes of nature will take your heart by surprise