Adieu To Petite Memories
On a cobblestone path,
All the remnants of a love that was
Like outstretched arms
Trees dance in the wind
The branches needlessly trying to
Grasp the petite memories
Holding them tight, refusing to let go
As the last drops of wine slip from
Your glass into your mouth
Announcing the final beat of a love that was
Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2010
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