The Myth of Someday

Right now, walking the dog, you think,

maybe this memory will resurface eventually

for no particular reason.

It will not be perfectly preserved. No one will wrap it in acid-free paper 

and keep it dry for you. But maybe 

the smell of the fresh cut grass

or the way the dog’s legs seem too small to support the rest of him

will seep into an afterthought

an impossible decade later. 

Who knows what you will be doing then

or who you might be? You might be standing solidly in your new present

watching someone mow his useless lawn, and that will be enough

to call to mind how the dog trundles a little too far ahead,

forever just out of reach if you keep going at your pace,

before pausing at the edge of someone else’s fence

and lifting his leg.