of moments shared
the count too few –
a route for getting back
runs east to west
and north beyond my view
pages torn
and photos faded
where am I to go
when every shred of evidence
is nothing I can hold
no souvenirs
or passion cleft –
no path we walked along
no proof exists beyond my heart
of love we must have known
can’t change the rules
to resurrect
a life before you came
the girl I was before I learned
the taste that was your name
if e’er a means were garnered
and I with time to prove
how long the waste in seeking
all I know as truth
of stars where darkness
used to be
solace for days between
truth I held when no one knew
how it was
to dream
. . .
Such mystery to solve when the only trace is left beyond the falls …
…echoing of promise we sometimes still can hear ❤
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.