Reflection of the Son

They tell me
you were fast,
and most often, 
you were kind,

and you cared 
an awful lot about 
all the things that 
I know I would 
have loved.

You were almost
gone before I got to
the place where 
I'd remember, and
now the things that 
I remember are the things
I'd rather forget.

Sometimes 
I catch a glimmer
of what you must have 
really been like, and it
quickly passes but I know
that I would like to 
have known you,

if only for a while.