In this freezing winter chill

Once more I implore my quill
To trace those paths in my silences
Where your words lingered
(albeit for a little while)

Strangely though the ink chooses…

..To follow those lines
In my solitude
Where your touch lingered…
(Was it just an eternity ago?)


Strange are the destinations
Chosen by ink and the quill…

Stranger are the tales
Woven by destiny

Closing the lid softly…
…I can only conclude …