The park where we would play is still the same
as when we left it last. I still recall
the last thing that I heard—you called my name
Your voice across the distance seems so small
I smiled.  I knew we’d come again to play
in mornings when the grass was cool and wet
all breathless through an endless summer day
best friends on whom the sun would never set
It’s still the same regardless of my sighs
revealed by every year of memories
I feel it in the wrinkles of my eyes
and in the soft embrace of autumn’s breeze
I close my eyes imagining, and then
I hear you calling out my name again

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