The Way Back

By Bliss Bonner

I’m constantly struck by the impermanence of things,

the way everything I know and love grows wings,

flies away

far away.

Will I see it again someday?

I sit with my face pressed to the window, 

try to preserve these views with photos,

but a screen just can’t show

the way I see the sky,

see the river,

see the trees.

I suppose that’s the nature of these things. 

Train tracks pass,

fires burn to ash,

I try to catch these moments as they flash

in my mind

but I know

I can’t find

my way back.