In vain I rummage.
Through the mailbox and messages.
Not a single word of goodbye.
Not even a sigh.
Below my feet the sands of time shift.
On my fingertips
Like marmalade orange sunbeams stick.
I put them to my lips.
Bittersweet they taste.
Like teardrops or memories left.
Untitled Poem
Author
SummerForest
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