Door swings closed with a clattering knock
The smell of home and baking bread
I know that once you reached me
Or a shade of me that is long dead
The sun skirts behind grey clouds
Like a child playing hide and seek
Drifts away like teaspoon days
Slips away like silent weeks
Silent weeks
By far too easy to lose the steady beat
You lose count so easy
Times without beginning, greys stacked on end
And I know that I have been here before
But I still can't remember when
When