Memories make quite the telephone game

each time revisited, never the same.

We wistful dreamers valiantly whisper

Hopeful to paint a dependable picture

While those recollections that we hold most dear

Are glossed more times over with moony veneer

But shall we thus mourn the loss of the true

Or rather embrace writing history anew?

I guess to remember we must pay a price

Never to step in the same river twice.