I wish I could wash them away,

Clean out of my memory,

Those moments where I was not my best.

And start anew, like an incoming tide.

Linear is not often my want,

Strolling downtown,

But occasionally,

I follow directions.

When guided, not forced.

Not all that is old is ugly,

As I return to nature the lines of my life are exposed,

My fall exposed and inhabited by new life,

Until eventually.
    

It is over. For now.