I'll sit here on our porch
humming, gazing,
still waiting;
yet unsure if I'll spot your shadow.
I know your road seems too narrow,
but why does it seem
where I'm sitting
is not on your 'to go'?
Piece by piece,
fragments of moments
withering-- slowly vanishing;
there I found my self,
the only one still collecting.
One by one,
those we cherished,
begone.
The porch where I'm sitting,
one we're both dreaming--
Is it also vanishing?
I'm slowly losing my seat,
you left me in this dream,
alone, still hoping.