There was never anything.

It was useful – briefly.

I opened a few doors

That’s all – nothing more.

Very little

As you now know.

And – anyway – past.

Gone, over with,

Yesterday, a memory.

Already my face fades

The occasional, half-hearted

Nostalgic effort

To stay in touch

Is a chore.

Don’t smile at me

Don’t look at me

Don’t speak to me

Don’t humour me

Don’t make an effort

Don’t bother to come

Don’t try to help

Don’t make allowances

Don’t think of me

Don’t stay as long with me

Keep walking away from me

Look over your shoulder less often

Soon I shall be out of sight

My voice lost on the wind

The path back to me

Impossible to find

Do not fear –

The quicksands of time

Will embrace me.