My Car

It is black, not new, not old, more cluttered than I like.

I leave it that way, having no time to clear my mind enough to clear the evidence.

To get there on time I circled round each lot looking for a space,

I would not have arrived later had I parked the furthest away at the start.

I had imagined the walk from each one:

how many steps, how hot I would be, how heavy my bags would become.

Now I cannot remember which space I did choose, which possible future I had actually chosen some time ago, which became reality–

It was far, I had ended walking through most of those lots on the way.

Do I remember rushing through this path, or do I remember knowing how late it would make me?

This is where I will search my mind for any awareness.

I need to find some crumb I would not have imagined, only noticed in passing,

to learn if I had really been here on my way to there,

so I can find my way back

to my car.

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