wordless voices, unheard conversations
do you remember those talks
while walking down the stations?
blurry skylines and the
serene weather;
those steps we took were
softer than the feathers.
was it a dream i had
last year in fall,
when the snow crumbled at my feet
but the sun felt warm?
like snowflakes drifting away
people are the same
still i hope you won't, ever forget my name.
❧
YOU ARE READING
Faint Lines | On Hold
Poetrythe crinkles by your eyes always remind me of the faint contrails that the jets leave behind, in the morning sky. copyright © 2018 by anna.