Piano

The sound of the piano

in the afternoon,

the sound of bees

in the garden,

the sound of your voice

in my memories,

my time and yours

lost in a garden.

I wish I could back,

see you as you once were,

before life changed us

and we became grownups.

Books and an electric train,

a playroom no one uses,

Autumn has settled in

I wander among memories,

and gaze upon your face

as I remember it.