Walking
quiet tree-lined trails
shadowed in your memory,
I feel you here
reaching for me
just beyond the trees-
wanting.
My name
whispers from your lips
as the wind
moves in the trees.
I turn,
shadows move,
your ghost
follows me.
My favorite place
now feels cold,
empty of the warmth
once held.
Vacant...
cold.
Come to me...
walk again in the sun
with me at your side,
share the shadows,
bring me peace,
bring me... you.
I miss you.
Ella Kay