The past really is a foreign country, where history has been subtly changed.
Road-signs have been altered, doors are locked against the stranger.
and my children
now have children of their own.
The man I was, and what she was,
that spirited, flamboyant girl,
have vanished, all our passion stilled.
I hardly thought myself grown old
till, in her tearful, wary face
my own reflected: weary, drawn.
Full forty years of life’s rebuffs
have turned us into shadows.