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remembering when things were great 

thanking heavens pinching yourself 

 

subsequent times haven't added up 

at least you've got a reference for what you lost

 

placeholder on the table 

dog ear in the novel

 

post-it on the refrigerator 

late night moan of lost love

 

much as you feel you can go back

each time you escape into a different past

 

slightly wiser slighter faster

erasing mistakes with every thought

 

faces roll over, savings spent

dinners digested, books lent

 

histories merge into dreams

memories become pure fiction

 

few objects bear close scrutiny

you hold desperately to your beliefs

 

reflection becomes a revolutionary act

as the times are marching over a cliff