July 9, 2013 § 2 Comments
All we ever see is the last trail of her dress as the door shuts,
or a few fading footprints near the pier.
Once, the fog rippled as it streamed along the echoes of an old song.
A rose colored jacket blazed to bright gold
as a young man watched the setting sun
through a window.
To open our eyes and see any more than this
is to vanish.