Memories are sweet,
sweet and live.
Images of you,
fresh and smooth,
I wonder again,
and again,
how the image of you
gets crystal clear,
when you drift from me,
fly from me ,
miles away.
In a one more second,
image will blur,
knowing that,
you will no longer here.
In mornings I hear your greetings,
No,
it's the hum of the bees,
In evenings I hear your singing,
No,
it's the tune of the crickets.
I see your smile in winter,
and your shining eyes in summer,
But I hear the people say,
it is just a snowflake
dancing on my bare hand,
and it is the shining summer sun,
peeking from a white cloud..
But I know,
I can certainly hear your thoughts,
Oh!
may be that's the yearning of my shattered soul......
P.S: I posted this poem in a Literature Forum.
We all have our share of experiences of the drifting of loved ones.
The distance can be metaphorical or literal , but that feeling can't shake.
Time is the best healer... Yeah, give it time..........
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