The Case of Memory

This is a case of leaving home,

for holiday, say both lens, books,

though hefty tomes for relaxed read -

Gideon Bible thief at large?

Then chrome-look locks, photography

suggests outdated, former ways,

paraphernalia, past phase.

Maybe home was yesterday.

For few had need of passports when

a coach to pier and not for flight;

there was, of course, more rain than sun,

some lodging, bed and breakfast rate,

a promenade, with greasy spoons,

spade, sandless bucket, sewage sea,

where skimming stones from pebbled beach -

no dreaming, castles in the air.

But we were out of city streets,

those gangs and bullies, guttersnipes,

as for a fortnight, family;

an image-prompted memory.

Is this a show then, for display,

some travel agent, olden days?

Or show, perhaps, here, of regret?

Did we know more then than do now?