Fantastic literature

Footsteps

As I watched you part from

my house, with every step ever so more

I wonder if it is possible to remember

all the things that have happened so far

in your life

To be honest I can't remember a single

thing till the age of 7 or 8 and after

that only flashes of brilliant clarity

I also wondered whether anyone ever

watched me walk away from their

house, carrying just a piece of past,

one small memory

Parting from them with every

step, in sort of a slow motion, lasting hours

maybe years, it's hard to tell

The snow melted on the path, but not

on the grass, meaning not leaving

any trails

but you did leave something

A small memory, a piece of past and a

single pair of white gloves

M.K.