The Way We Were... Poem by DM W

The way we were in
enigmatic photographs
seems to freeze time, but
we know that we can't hold on
to it. For it slips through
our fingers just like fine sand.
Summer's flowers grow
tall, then wither and decay.
Grey, ragged age will
one day descend on us all.
It is Easter and we
peruse these dusty albums.
Remember that spring
in '90 when we first met?
You were young, brimming
with the fragrant joys of life.
And I was entranced.
Alas, we cannot return.
And perhaps it is
rather futile to look back.
The way we were is
but a brief moment in time.