Dry memories.
Sitting down to work
All I can is sulk.
Before me flashes a recollection
Of the roads we walked
Probably quiet -
Devoid of our laughter.
Empty perhaps,
There's no more us.
Hard tar masked in leaves
There's no sound of dragging shoes.
So much forgotten
A lot more left undone.
I'll go there maybe someday hence
And see it all again!