The day we met; I fear I can’t recall
the date nor time. The weather of that week
is also lost within the maze of mind.
Of what we spoke that fated day — that too
is gone gone gone. It matters not with all
that followed then. But we were of a kind.
The day you left; that too I don’t quite know
just when it was or what was said to whom.
That it was ordinary is a fact.
The heavens too, were plain as e’er they are —
no errant star nor nova there was seen.
This haze within my mind is not an act.
And of the days we spent as one, those too
have faded well. The kindest words you had
for me, forgotten now, forever lost.
Your smile, your scent, your eyes and nose and lips;
these things and more have slipped right through the gaps
which scar my mind and seize it just like frost.
But these are merely details in the end.
Remember you, I do, my good, dear friend.