Where did they go?
We measured our teenage son
almost every month, shook our heads
and asked what happened to our baby boy:
Where, where did he go?
Where did they go,
that lanky, smirking youth,
that eager, laughing boy,
that tender, wriggling babe.
Instead before me stands a man
who will soon, no doubt, be gone as well.
All reside within my memory.
But where is that? Remembrance
does not solve the mystery
but is the mystery itself.
With every inch we grow,
with every person we come to know,
with each fresh love and disappointment,
we add not only memories and years,
but die to our former selves as well,
and they to us.
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