In Years Since

In years since
I have half-glimpsed your face
through the crowds
of the world's great cities
up an escalator
in the London tube
through half closed doors
on the Paris Metro
a rear window cameo
in an Athens taxi
on the breezy stern
of a vaporetto in Venice

Perhaps it should
disturb me
that these glimpses
at intervals of years
are less likely
to be sure
disturb me
that I'm no longer certain
of your appearance.

But my emotions
soften
I slowly forget
jagged contours
I thought indelibly etched
time abrades
the smashed edges
memories lose
their specificity
eroded and rounded
like bleached driftwood
beached on shorelines
older than any city.