A herd of sound in my mind’s eye of image felt with giggles,
of a bouncing film all flicker black and white and ancient.
The colours of this view are painted in with thoughtful gauche and squiggles.
A girl, a dress, a tree, a flower and puppies not so patient.
I know now when I see this view it has a sense of fragrance too,
A smell half recalled and sounds of muted glass that fragile break and fly.
I now know that this view I see is a memory of little old you,
Before the flood of water and of tears, before so much had to die.
I feel we are so fickle in our acceptance of how temporary this all is,
We live like an eternity is yet to come but yearn what once was.
To have loved you more when you were then I was remiss,
I guess to remember is getting easier and this is all because
We all regret the things that passed us by without taking it all in
Left to recall and recreate from snippets here and there that time does wear so thin.