Rain, finding my face
steady and without sound
I remember all those moments
they have passed me now
Memories are the hardest of things
their whispers in the darkness
Almost as unbearable
as the hush of years
And the rain falls, so gently
Days from your voice,
years from your sighs
The only sound
the other side of sorrow
It returns to silence, and shadow
Never to be spoken, out loud
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 