Sunday, January 9, 2011

gone

When I hear the rain trickle down,
I remember.
Forty days and nights of memories,
coming back like a bolt of lightning through the mist.
Or when I feel the cold wind blow,
the shivers make me miss your warmth.
The smile that lit up the room
has been extinguished.
I say, when I see the stars come out,
the warm summer nights spent
counting them out come back in a flash,
and nothing is forgotten.
I grieve.
Like the father who's lost his son,
I grieve.

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