we are constant time travelers, drifting from memory to hope, and striving, with a push and pull, to attach a moment to another one in history.  the ability to stay present is at constant odds with the smells of yesterday and the music of the radio and sometimes, even, just a change in the barometer.

I find myself awaking, at points in the day, and realizing how often the moment has eluded me as a I visit someone in another space, another zip code, another temporal reality. attempting to create new memories I find myself missing those already slipping from my grasp