The Past Still Lives In The Present Poem by Kwai Chee Low
The Past Still Lives In The Present
A lonely moon,
a starless night.
Winking neons over
deserted streets.
The swirling mist,
eerie shadows
dance to the light breeze.
Witching hour,
here I am again,
ruminating on the times
we shared.
The bench beneath the old oak,
the quaint sidewalk cafe,
the enchanted evenings,
still haunt my memories.
Even though you are gone,
our past shall forever
remain in my present.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/18/2024 11:59:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The old good days are not easily to be forgotten.A delicate poem, very soothing.
Thank you, Cigeng. Fond memories are for keeps...