We are surrounded by significance.
Everything carries a trace, a sign of yet
something else, whether pointing back to a regret,
or ahead in knowing anticipation.
But nothing exists solely for itself.
So you had better get used to the idea,
since it can surprise you when a nephew
not seen since he was a toddler,
enters the room and brings to mind
your own brother who left one day
with the keys to your car
never to return