The empty air between us seems
so thick, so distant, as in dreams.
Memory fades to hazy view,
framed in melancholy hue.
Razor’s edge once cut so deep
rusts in pools of tears I weep.
I wept-no more-the well is dry,
the burden gone, with wings I fly,
no more bemoan what might have been,
how sadder now the days than then-
above the noise sometimes is found
the thought of you hanging around,
more bitter than sweet.
This fellow and another were determined to be noticed this weekend. So I stood there with my camera taking dozens of shots in manual mode just to capture the essence in one or two images. I was determined too!
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