Now What Was That Title Again?

I saw her before,
She said she was... my daughter?
-then hugged me, crying.

Told my children tales
Of my years coming of age
-almost believe now.

Looking in yearbooks,
A long line of photographs
-where are they all now?

He jumped up on me,
Looking up with those brown eyes
-single memory.

At night you come back,
And we live those times again
-the way we should have.

Copyright 2009

One Single Impression: Fading Memories