You Remind Me of Someone

You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
An old familiar face
Maybe a lover
From my wilder youth
Or my mother in her younger days
Maybe in a former life
I was a serviceman
And you were my wife
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
Maybe it’s better that way
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
It’s, uh, Georgia O’Keeffe, yeah
In your desert of shape and hue
Bleached bones and silent grief
The way you stare off into space
And see only what
You want to face
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
Someone who’s a lot like me
Did anybody ever tell you
That you look
A little like Mary Cassatt
A mother and a child
Arranged, estranged
A mere brush stroke apart
While underneath your varnish
Hides an unpossessible soul
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
Somebody who’s so hard to know
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
Maybe the ghost
Of things yet to come
Or the shining eyes
Of my daughter dear
Still waiting to be born
Or the loving gaze of Mother Earth
Still flirting with the universe
You remind me of someone
I don’t know who
Somebody I
Somebody I could learn to love
' 1994 Bob Walkenhorst Music BMI