Pause
Footsteps frozen in time:
Your last words.
Your final memory
Embroidered on my soul
In the garden,
Where you used to play.
You made pawprints on my heart
The day I met you
That never faded away
But soon the rain will come
And your footsteps,
Engraved in the winter ground,
Will turn to mud and
Disappear.
Copyright © Amelie Ison | Year Posted 2025
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