Monday, November 7, 2011

The Missing Piece

I miss the whistling pines on a snowy evening
A bright sun the next day
The snowmen melting away
The cold winds traveling north
We huddled around fire making merry
I miss my innocence
The mud houses and toys
The fear of ghosts and endless prayer
Long fairy tales lasting into morning
I miss her
The nights spend beside her
The time together on the grass
Sweet nothing exchanges and stifled smiles
Years have slipped in her pain


harsh said...

wonderful. seems very personal and emotional.


They say time heals every wound. But some wounds only get deeper with time.