Nostalgia’s Glass

A warm eclipse its entry brings:

Through glasses darkly, stranded things

Enliven and infect the heart

Setting time and soul apart

Faces slip, and moments pass—

Mere baubles in the cloudy glass

Words cast out and none remembered

But time persists—the past surrenders

The tangible then reappears

Until at last the surface clears

The visions fade, the faces dim...

How coldly then the light seeps in.