Unseen child whispering in my ear,
Walking up a flight of stairs
Into the vast fields of memory,
We’re viewing an old alchemy club photo
With our names listed in the caption as not pictured.
Young today and old tomorrow,
In the act of disappearing into elements,
This is the land of sticks and stones,
Dime store gags and forget-me-nots
That cover a lot of ground.
We all cover a lot of ground,
And soon the ground will be covered with us.
The photo is golden with age,
The last impression of a light
That traveled on a century ago.
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