What Once We Were
Stiff in time’s tinted arms,
we are encapsulated
in ivoried amber, snagged
in pastel photographs
or conjured by words
like treasured cuttings
we have tossed asunder
into wind.
Years take faces away,
leave locust hulls
crisp in early autumns—
translucent sticks
of what was once us
for a moment, fragments
of what we’ll never be
again.
Ancient stone footprints
lead to sea’s edge,
diminish into scampering
tide, pull us out
of ourselves
toward final embraces,
brief flashes in evening sky
dimming like flesh
toward dusk.
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