Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
In life I shall not hold you again-
I've held the box your ashes are in-
But I can't take death on the chin...
It's good to stride out with your lover at dusk
The sky is still luminous with purple clouds drifting...
