Wood grain on
Bare feet
The smell of cigarettes
Muddled with the
Crisp cool embrace of fall.
The leaves rustle
And crickets chirp
Then all is still.
I can feel you,
A warming presence
That draws me like
Moths to a flame
Lost in reminiscence
Almost forgetting
No one is here at all
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
Wood grain on
Bare feet
The smell of cigarettes
Muddled with the
Crisp cool embrace of fall.
The leaves rustle
And crickets chirp
Then all is still.
I can feel you,
A warming presence
That draws me like
Moths to a flame
Lost in reminiscence
Almost forgetting
No one is here at all
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