A Glimpse

A glimpse back to the past
in the form of a letter.
A paid fare back into time
     Keep ticking forward
Oh how times have changed.
How trivial it all seems.
     How important
     For its time.
There's something about moving away
that doesn't need boxes.
It needs a good-bye
     It's final.
     No matter what, the old times
     have died.
Yellowing envelopes with forgotten destinations
hold ramblings of yesteryear
     A bit of me
     I had let go.