Cold air finds a way in old friend a ghost I wonder if I will see you someday hovering near the doorway an outline wisps of memories and this is the time of year when cold air slides arm around me pulling me deep into thoughts and memories are ghosts
I try to remember how you sound and I am afraid that I can’t quite remember but memory crashes forth emotions and I know this is the time of year when I hold the receiver up to my ear dial tone conversation crackling and the phone shuts off when I take a moment to remember how you sound
Memories are ghosts hovering nearby we used to meet up for dinner and I told you we would still do this even we were old and gray our bones gathering dust and bitterness formed a language upon our tongues cold air chills me as I sit alone with the steam off my coffee forming your outline
This is the time of year when the leaves change and the cold air collects and every breath a whisper of steam and I think about you memories are ghosts sliding up next to you following you like shadows drifting over your days and I wonder if you will slide your cold hand in mine
Poetic Trials 