The face is, I guess, familiar.
Something about those eyes, the smile, that gesture …
Reminds me of a time
When we played our roles of preps, nerds and jocks,
Parts not quite so sublime,
But far more cock-sure.
Its image more nostalgia than similar
Some are, I guess, repining.
Groping for a way to recapture the lost past
When only possibilities abound
And before we learned of life’s simple paradox
That with all those choices we found
Even the memories don’t seem to last,
But instead like pencil lead are found evanescing
It was, I guess, amusing.
Wandering between ‘remember when’ to ‘here and now’
Mouthing names thought lost to ancient history.
As we excavate past all those mental roadblocks
Conducting all the experiments in social archeology
That our time would allow
Editing and amending the script to our choosing
My nostalgia is, I guess, different.
None of those special moments, the tears and the laughs
Would I want to rewind,
But I do enjoy taking them out of their box,
Now and again, to find
Like an old photograph,
Savoring the flavor of a memory spent.
I may have been, I guess, in error,
Remaining aloof, distant, and all too hard to find –
Not all by happenstance.
And though we can’t turn back the clocks
We meet renewed and old acquaintance,
Discovering those we’ve left behind,
Whose façade has faded to a polished splendor.
Reunion Allusions without a Guard between the Crosswalks.