I left footprints in the grass;
My steps lingered while tracing a line of memory
Then curved into reflections left on vine covered walls;

Fluid foot-falls of the softest pace;
Pressing the earth and defining my shape;
Then flooding the impressions with water

Soaking the heeled cracks as they were;
Tracing the ghosts from behind with out-stretched shadows
and blending back into mossy ground

I could sense the pull and pain of memory;
With rain the emotional divide,
The instant reminders as I cave and collapsed

As I turn, I began to perceive the forgotten pattern;
Floating on a soaked path;
Bathed in the mist which had echoed a lie

I had a moment;
A stolen flicker through fog;
That my presence was never there

11/29/2008