I sense her shadow
where I tread. Hear
the echo of her voice
through falling leaves
and wind's call. I now
remember her touch
in a myriad of dreams
and years reaching back
to other rooms where
the doors are closed.
I recall our time and
words and places we
went how gone never
to return nor be nor out
of memory feel. Those
rooms are empty now
and echoes fade into
silence and shadows
mingle with dusk and
are no more and stand
like one looking out sadly
from a lonely winter shore.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
I sense her shadow
where I tread. Hear
the echo of her voice
through falling leaves
and wind's call. I now
remember her touch
in a myriad of dreams
and years reaching back
to other rooms where
the doors are closed.
I recall our time and
words and places we
went how gone never
to return nor be nor out
of memory feel. Those
rooms are empty now
and echoes fade into
silence and shadows
mingle with dusk and
are no more and stand
like one looking out sadly
from a lonely winter shore.
