When I Choose.

When I choose to remember I see a field of corn. The radio is between channels. The paint is peeling off the barn. When I choose to remember I see her at a counter behind a cup a coffee. Street lights blink on and fill the walk way will oval pools of green light. When I choose to remember I can see the corner of the attic. Behind the knives in a shoebox, I see what I have chosen to forget.