Dream familiar.
I must seem taller to you.
Your rooms feel empty clean,
and my footsteps echo.

Of course I remember you.
Not as you are, but as we were.

Each item catalogued;
the same, changed, new.

My eyes. I notice

everything that was.
everything that won't be.
everything

John Kipling Lewis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alma-mater-3/