You can’t make a microscopic slide
Of a bone to see what life exists inside.
You can still take a photograph
From the past, to see bubbling eyes
Frothing skin and time climbing out
Through the silhouette of a loved one
To connect a day of remembrance
With an epoch of life
We are always microscopists
Looking back in time at one person
Who became magnified, larger than life to you,
Like a whale or God or the universe.
A man or woman
Who left an inventory inside your heart
That keeps on appreciating with time.
We have a word in the English
Language to describe that – we call that nostalgia.
