Early Memory: Jocken

First things lie deep, here in the starting place,
unseparate, composted into ground.
I come here without much hope to find
anything but the once bright images
gone dull with overuse: the jeweled dress;
the yellowish gravel of the garden path;
a redwood wall; quiet water in the bath
reflecting walls and window upside down,
so I was frightened, but the fear is gone.
Only a sense of how intense things were,
how near and piercing, and how dear
the round, still eye, the short, dun, silken fur.