#WritcoPoemPrompt121
Your notes,
Are the only things I have,
The words are like melodies that float(s),
But the letters sometimes misbehave.

Your voice,
The only thing recorded,
Humming still lingers in my ears,
But no longer heard.

Your face,
On which the golden rays shines as pearls,
That's my eyes wander to see now and then,
But can't reach the destination.

Your hands,
That knitting the winter cap,
Are tender and soft to hold,
But no longer felt.

Your reflection,
Seen upon the lake,
A mirror of the summer sky,
But waver when touched with fingers of mine.

© Ira
#poemera
#writco #WritcoPoemChallenge