Give me another word for regret,
             something more like forget
                        only better, more effective,

since in fact we really don’t forget
            the bad things we did
                        or caused. I read in a letter

to The Sun Magazine where a man
            will always remember the egret
                        lying, a silent heap of cirrus clouds,

at his 12-year-old feet. It was his first
            and last time shooting a gun.
                        His confession stabbed me

into a memory of unremembered shame
            and the ache in my stomach telling me
                        I had joined humanity.