The songs
We sang
The moments
We shared,
pipedreams.
The rusty hum
That rocked us
Gently asleep
Is forever
A finger stroke away.
I know it,
That life
Is better spent
In a garden.
But sometimes
It’s simply too easy
To carry on
Hiding in the cellar.
The shape of the bottle
Never changes
And the drink is still
A mellow dry
But the light,
The light is
Different.
Your glowing face
Once brought me tears
Of joy.
Your glowing face
Once brought me tears
Of loss.
But now
Your glowing face
Brings no tears,
Only a smile
And a happy
Recollection.
Graham Cohen
