In the hollow of the years, haunted by all things past, I sought out the phantoms of a yesteryear, children now older than myself, cozy home a heap of mossy ruins, the forest path we once walked so freely now a traffic clogged highway.
I mourn in the quiet that which is gone from me yet that still remains and the sobs never do escape my throat.
The winds rush overhead, the sun rises and sets, and the waves break into white foam upon the stony shore.
I know now why I was meant to have forgotten and will try now to put it away from me, living in the moment eternal and never in my losses.
My family, my life, my tramping grounds are all new now and perhaps I’d best embrace them. Soon enough I will have to let them free and some essence will yet remain, impervious to illusory Time.