He may not be near me
but I see him everyday:
stars in the night sky
grandpa's fidgety hands
quiet sun rays
It's been days since we spoke
but I hear him everyday:
rustling wind of crunchy leaves
our song on the radio
patters of excited child's feet
His hug has become a memory
but I feel him everyday:
refreshingly dark rainstorms
his smell, a scent worn by too few others
weak tea that kisses me awake in the morning-
we both know
it should be him
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
He may not be near me
but I see him everyday:
stars in the night sky
grandpa's fidgety hands
quiet sun rays
It's been days since we spoke
but I hear him everyday:
rustling wind of crunchy leaves
our song on the radio
patters of excited child's feet
His hug has become a memory
but I feel him everyday:
refreshingly dark rainstorms
his smell, a scent worn by too few others
weak tea that kisses me awake in the morning-
we both know
it should be him