Phantoms of Transition

Strange how you can be one place one moment
or that one place for many many moments,
and then all of a sudden a different place on the horizon
inches closer until the old place falls away
from familiarity.

Strange how you can touch one body one moment
or that one body for many many years and phases of life
and then all of a sudden that body whithers away
without asking permission or taking responsibility
for the whithering away that happens to you too.

Landscapes and faces,
tonal qualities and sunset stoops,
inside jokes and routes to work,
eye color and alarm-set-schedules,
kissing/hugging patterns and user passwords--
they come and go,
with or without you,
but memory persists,
shifting the shape, size and texture
of what you considered real one minute
and gone the next.