…of a summer day
That last time they stood together
in a field of turmoil
on snow covered ground
he offered her his hand
a candle flickered
and a book was slammed shut
the night engulfing like a tomb
after, they were separated
and at the end, when all was done
he lived forever in her heart
far beyond all depths
and they came to be forgotten
in between are many years
endless relentless time
which does not allow foot prints
leaving no traces at all
in their time was so much joy
as there were shells in the sea
all arrived unexpected later
they walked in sadness like the wind
when she thought of him
she trembled as spark in spring rain
she looked for his face
listened for his voice, everywhere
with an ancient instinct
she asked the night for dreams
as if she could possibly see
the ashes of a summer day
but time cares not for yesterday
and buries the sounds of memory
in the whispers of the wind
so they leave no footprints
in the sands of time
© Ann Bagnall
2012
