Ten years on I see that same smile bloom across your sons face. He has no memory of you and holds mine to the changing of his mood. Sometimes in him I see my reasons for loving you, Sometimes in us I see my reasons for leaving you. We wonder, when the days are slow, How you are, who you are, where you are? But life goes on and a memory is all that you will ever be. I have no photograph, no friendly spy to tell me of your life. We live a decade apart from the time there was a we at all. Perhaps there have been days when we have passed in the street Close enough to touch Or maybe you are married now and far away Or dead and turned to dust We think of you, my son and I from time to time But I suppose that if I live in your memory at all I am still nineteen. He looks so much like you I think.