People I knew once
that fit like puzzle pieces
in the jigsaw of my life

pass though my mind
like curtains lifting
in a summer breeze.

Victims of time
that slips past unmarked,
vanishing to memory

Lost down the miles,
the slow ooze of space
that carries us away.

Busyness, inertia ā€“
each broken link contains
its own excuses.

Each failure to rekindle
buries its own guilt,
suggests some joy Iā€™m missing.

I might eventually find them,
yet I pause and wonder
why after all this time.