Soft is the memory
of holding her in my arms,
a quiet winter morning,
only one ambiance
the beauty of her soul
imitating my own,
we too,
two people together,
could find peace of mind
in each other’s eyes.
I won’t forget
the scene between
the two of us,
holding hands
while strolling a summer
river bank,
the two of us,
standing at the bridge
finding one another again.