Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Your image
lingers;
As a scent
brushed
against my
wrist.
Threaded
through
memories.
Of days -
when dreams
where born -
and hearts
whole.
Days that
faded.
Much too
soon.
Dew that
rose
beneath
this ground.
lingers;
As a scent
brushed
against my
wrist.
Threaded
through
memories.
Of days -
when dreams
where born -
and hearts
whole.
Days that
faded.
Much too
soon.
Dew that
rose
beneath
this ground.