The image alters
To blur the scene
I effort reminisce,
Yet barely feel
Its familiar kiss,
Brush the mind
That finds to hear,
A voice given life
To what appears
Be now unclear,
Yet distinct enough
To witness thus,
Time’s cruel crags
Sculpt its regress,
Sufficient to recall
Days no longer near,
I’d so held dear,
While time alas chose
I’m to witness its decay,
Turn shades of foggy grey,
Where archives yesteryears!
Poetry on a Canapé 
Shades of foggy grey, where archives yesteryears. Very powerful.
A powerful subject inspires a powerful stance, I suppose, at least for me I suppose, and by your response I see it is for you as well. Thanks again my friend. Your presence and words are important. Jean-Jacques
Wonderful flow of phrase et selection des bons mots. The beauty of the word-thread is that it touches our once treasured lost human connections: particularly those that were quickly truncated: those that may have been so powerful at the time but now are totally vacant as memories.
Such is the imperfect human condition of which we are reminded thru the mastery of phrase diffusée to the select few: many thanks to the Bard of Sweetsburg (J-J Fournier).
Thank you John, for taking the time to express such eloquent praise for my “Yesteryears” poem, that speaks of an issue we are all likely to experience in one form or other as time and years evaporate from under us ever so quickly each passing day. It is indeed both rewarding and encouraging to be reminded that ones words are read and appreciated. Be well my friend! Jean-Jacques