Written by: William Crocker

When you go back, To places in the past, And search for friends You left behind . . . You will not find them. Like you, time and space Have taken them away From yesterday . . . That misty isle That floats in memory. From the puzzle, Each took a piece . . . And changed it. . . . And, now . . . The pieces do not fit; And the picture that is made Is one you never knew.