In my dreams
all I see are glimpses of you
through the parting grass
Your scent carried softly
like a sad memory
to my receptors
I run after you
“Chase me” you call
teasing, laughing, hiding
But I can never run fast enough
held back by weeds
that trap your fading voice
And unto the clearing
I finally see you standing
back turned, face to the sun
Breathless I run to you
and wake up to realize
I have forgotten your face
© Antonio Beardall
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