unremembering

when to that first thin voice

at the crossing point
I listen

before the house stirs
and the engine of the day disturbs

I don’t go back to sleep
but stand in this new morning
ankle deep

unremembering myself
and everything about me

despite the chill
the dripping rain
the first voice of the day
does not complain

unlike me
it does not have a name
on which to hang itself