Sunday, 10 July 2011


I imagine what may be true;
I see myself in this old picture of you.
It could be the bright glow in your eyes,
Life soaking into everyone you knew.

You must have loved horses,
How they used to roam the plains.
Reminding you of how you felt
When the winds blew the grains.

I barely know your name,
But you were beautiful like me.
You smoked a pipe,
And looked happy on your wedding day.

Did you love trees?
Did you love food?
Did you love the crunch of feet on sand roads?
I’m walking around and thinking of you.

Of all I don’t know,
There’s something I do.
You loved your family,
And they tell me of you.

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