what is the past
but a dream mixed with nightmare
that seems to have happened,
has left evidence of occurrence,
in sweaty, twisted sheets upon waking?

like an archaeologist
we can dig and sift through layers
trying to understand
trying to interpret
but really we only come away
with a best guess,
a story that seems half fairy tale
from our present vantage.

it affects us though…
leaves wreckage and remnant
scattered in our lives;
but there is hope
we can scavenge the best bits
to fortify us for the future
that we might look forward
never to look behind again
always moving west
into the sun.