Last week, mom and I chased a beautiful sunset.
Driving through the hinterlands, we watched it silently, listening to the whispering breeze.
The front seat of the car was empty.
We missed your talks, laughs, and occasional singing.
And just like that, mother spoke about her trips with you.
She talked about the tales I had heard before.
You were there, and so were we in them.

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ReplyDeleteIn silent sunsets, memories remain,
ReplyDeleteIn every story, we meet you again.