I remember the roads, but the trees
are bigger. Or smaller. I remember
the houses, though some are missing.
If I look into the center
of their faces, I remember the people
I once knew as classmates.
Their eyes. Noses. The shapes
of the mouths. But their bodies
are unfamiliar. We are old,
but alive, and mostly hopeful.
Some of us are missing,
finally unfettered, unafraid.
~ ~ Jerry Higley