The past tapped me on the shoulder
and I turned. Nothing. Well, a scent.
Not even the sound of running feet
or nostalgia’s gentle humming.
Yet a sadness washed over me
that the past was lost and absence
was its legacy. The future
too in its way, either timed out
or boxed safely in denial.
The shoulder was tapped and I turned
hoping to find that ingenue
thrilled to walk in history’s steps.