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!

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