This is called "Amnesia."
It came out of watching TV late one night,
and suddenly I was watching Citizen Kane.
"I almost trust myself to know when
we're getting to that scene.
Call it the snow scene in Citizen Kane.
The mother handing over her son.
The earliest American dream, shot in a black and white,
where every flake of snow is incandescent
with its own burden.
Adding up, always adding up to the cold blur of the past.
But first there is the picture of the past--
simple and pitiless, as the deed truly was.
The putting away of a childish thing.
Becoming a man means leaving someone or something.
Still, why must the snow scene blot itself out,
the flakes come down so fast, so heavy, so unrevealing,
over the something that gets left behind?"