Yesterday

I have
A conversation
With letters
That once
Made you laugh,
Cry and smile.
And they lead
To paperless memories,
To places past
And different.
Different times,
Different people,
Different voices.
But the paper
Is old and brittle.
Its decay
Reflects a passage
Of years.
And what it is
I hold onto
Is of my own imagining.
It is not you
For you are gone.
Yet I can
Convince myself
Of much.

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2 thoughts on “Yesterday

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