Continually Different

I stand here, watching the man
He cannot see me,
But this is the only place we exist together
He is telling of his past, of the place he works
His desk was a store,
That room was a restaurant
In the past, this place was different
Now it was decrepit, barely alive,
As he tells of a time long past,
Surprise and bewilderment in his eyes,
I wonder what I also had forgotten.
Stories I've lost,
Songs I can no longer sing.
Granted, I'm on my own now,
Reduced from my troupe of three,
But I wonder,
As I learn new tales,
As I sing the new songs,
Am I, too, losing the past?

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Date posted: 20 June, 2009
Tags: new_alexandria regularspelling writing
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