Across the years you speak to me, Saying, “do you remember?” I remember, but not much.
How much was lost by you leaving so soon? What would you have said here? Here I am. This is me.
I walk past the place where one of you ended Almost everyday. Almost without reflection.
Tomorrow I will walk and I will reflect. Tomorrow I will look and I will recall. And though I hardly knew you, I will remember. (this poem was contributed by an anonymous visitor to the Forum) |