Those

The way

The treefaded old tree
Sunsight dappled some

Twinkling
The outline of your face

 

That night

The slice ofsporadic ornament sky

Memory is stillso warm

Little drops

Are also clearly

 

Time istherefore 

Cuz

Those timesongs

Sing it willnever end

Your hands

Ice cold of the bones

And the reason for that far-reached

All memory is in them

But

Carelessly

Lost in the intersection