© 2011 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
It feels like a Sunday, though it’s not,
and your birthday’s closing in.
I sit as though the world had stopped
and think of only you.
You walk my dreams most every night,
but in good ways always now.
And if a small stray tear sneaks out
a smile wipes it dry.
I recall your goodness and your wit,
the music pouring from your soul;
how you gave away that hoodie
to your friend without a home.
These days when I remember you
it’s as a bright brief shooting star.
When I am gone to atom dust
we’ll meet again, I know.
© 2011 RC deWinter
Tech specs: Photoshop 7, Filter Forge, Arkvis Oils