Ongoing #62/Harrow Daily Poem #18

A loose connection with the doodle today. Two explorers are looking out from the trees remarking that they have found a lost city.
Last week I was walking around an area of London that I knew quite well about thirty years ago. I recognized nothing. It was completely unfamiliar to me and I didn't know if it had changed or if I had just forgotten it all in the intervening years. It had become a lost city to me.

The Lost City

I used to know each city street,
Each path remembered by my feet,
Each doorway in its proper place,
Each window that contained my face.
I used to know each turn and twist,
Could close my eyes and make a list,
Of every building, every road.
Their ways became my secret code.
But then, one day, I went away -
Did not return until today
And I found I'd paid the cost,
What was my city had been lost.
We met as strangers not as friends
For left untended friendship ends,
And my friend, the city, knew me not;
Like me, alone, it just forgot.