What we hold in the palm of our hands,
delicate gift, the heart understands.
What we possess but forget
in the wake of regret
withers in shadow
of doubt.
Fragrant remains of desire,
kindling for funeral pyre,
The bits that you clutch,
have so numbed your touch,
while faint memory lingers
I slip through your fingers
as dust in the wind
and no way to mend
the bridge that once
called you a friend.
Forgotten.
CKP copyright words and Photo
2018
Dreaming Reality 
Beautiful!
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🙂
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A poignant reminder that beauty, and all good things can be fleeting. Very nicely done.
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Thank you Dan. Im glad you enjoyed it.
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Cheryl, your beautifully written verse and photo are a perfect marriage! Well done.
🔹 Ginger 🔹
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Thank you Ginger. I hope your day was peaceful.
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