Where did you go, my dear, my day;
Where, oh where, did you go?
To market, to maker of market, to say
Too much of the little I know.
Where did you go, my dear, my year;
Why did you flee from me?
I went from here to there to here
Where did you go, my life, my own,
Decades gone in a wink?
Some things are better left unknown
Some thoughts too thick to think.
David Berman. Reprinted by permission of