A Sonnet, if you will.

Sometimes I Pass the Place Where We Once Lived.

{A Sonnet}

Sometimes I pass the place where we once lived

And glimpse three ghosts arriving at the door 

A woman - me, a man, a newborn child, 

Arriving, in the darkness, shocked and sore. 

 I watch them cross the threshold, disappear, 

They don't exist now - all of them are gone, 

For brand new parents barely last a day, 

And babies only live 'til they are one.  

In twenty years I'll show you our old haunts: 

"We used to come here once when you were small"  

You'll shrug, but I'll see flashes everywhere - 

Each gate you climbed, each park, each village hall. 

Our lives move on, we change, evolve, adjust,
 Leaving our trace, our imprints in the dust.

{Thanks to themule.com for the inspiration.}