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Graveyard Snow

by Rye Brayley

I still recognize your last words, often
I hum them

All it takes
to create a ripple
in this sallow pond,
are words so frail

You’re a love long lost
or an unexpected guest
on this breezeless night
for a frozen soul
forever between worlds,
if that’s what I so choose

And in this half-light
you will stay beside me forever
A memory
An echo

I do not need any flesh to see
I know your shape in darkness

Rye Brayley is in his late 40s. Originally from Queens, NY, currently residing in Ybor City, Tampa.
X: @ryebrayley