I remember the most beautiful moment of my life.
I couldn't have been 4.
Everybody was gathered in the park,
a gathering to watch the sunset
and there was music playing.
This was a single moment lost in the 90s fever:
The singer had just died,
and I think we were celebrating his poetry
or his clinginess to life.
But at the same time, nobody was talking about it.
There was just silence and the sunset -
a meaningless collection of sensations
to all but a childish mind.
I've since tried to talk to some of the people I reckon were there,
but none of them recall any of it happening.
They would have me believe
the best moment of my life
was a dream.