Morning Memory

all i see is the mist, on top of this hill
the bloom of flowers are hidden
at night my lover comes concealed by darkness
and at dawn, after a tryst, she goes out again,
oh, she comes like a happy memory
but like a dream, she cannot stay that long

in the morning when she is gone,
as i watch a cloud coming,
it is her that i will always remember

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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