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RECOVERED, ALMOST
Like the day it all comes home, cowbells clanging in
the pasture, sheep click-clicking their
way down some mountain trail,
like a happy memory uncovered in
the attic of my mind, or some
word or thought I had just misplaced,
when I searched that drawer for the small tape
dispenser wheel, and found the silver ring
my father made for me long ago, two
hours after I had found my black vest, the one with
the pin ("Remember," it says in Yiddish),
then the receipt I had buried somewhere last month,
so much lost, so much found,
so much recovered on this day, the
second of May, my mother's yarzheit.
May 2, 2007