Friday, November 13, 2015


Ensnared memories of the past
Condemned to a ghostly afterlife
A discord now following a joy
For we do not see all that passes
Across our tall towers of memory
On these flowing winds of tribute
Swift to fly under pale windows
They sigh now; unremarked spectres
Sentinels of recollection to haunt us
For the images we keep and treasure
Of the people we never said goodbye to