Witnessed

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.

Inspired by Simon Christen’s Adrift.

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