Way Back When

Do you recall the rain-drenched afternoon
I told you how the Reformation started
—astounded, at first, you didn’t already know—
and when I finished
lightning struck the cross
on the Lutheran church in the parking lot
and caused all the bells to start ringing;
how we sat there, smugly out of the rain
on that brown back porch, so long ago,
with the summer crashing down around us?

Please remember this:
You are not forgotten
anywhere in these poems

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