I walked

I walked him by,

Lost his memories

At road cross.

Then I stated I was growing

While shadows kept spreading.

I went to her grave

The forehead on the stone.

I didn’t see anything

But began to pray.

May I believe?

Writing Christmas cards is a pain:

So many have passed.

I must remember the living ones,

How they smile to my heart.

I walked myself by

I’ll dive into my dreams.

I’ll try to learn more

After tomorrow’s meeting.