What is this I see?
The shimmer of years yet to be,
The draping of a quilted sight,
The flaking hope on a snowy night.
A sea of mist sprung from your lips,
The intonation of your tender quips.
Floating in the dimming light,
Through spotless patches of brilliant white,
Brings to mind a song that I once knew,
The sacred breath that you once withdrew,
The forgotten words of an ancient rune,
The whisper grows into a deafening tune.
But the voice is still askew,
With the winter sun, now removed.
I reach out to steal your breath,
But it duly seeps through.
I reach out to grab the view,
But i can’t, i sit bemused.
For the life of me,
I can’t recall you.