The Peculiar Shape of Things Long Lost

I’ll often see shades of what once was;

The peculiar shapes of things long lost.

A glimmer in an eye, or a faint scent

That belongs in the past -

Sensations of yore.

They may simply recede, but

Sometimes they will linger.

Fragments of yesterlife, clinging dearly

Onto elements of the present;

Desperate to be relevant.

In times like this, I simply

Look them in the eye, and remember.

I let a fondness or repulsion wash over me,

And I smile regardless -

Either

Welcoming a warm nostalgic thought,

Or

in celebration that such sadness has now passed.