fallen verses

The City of Falling Angels

I found a photograph
of you and me
standing on a bridge
in Venice.

I’m not usually smiling
in photographs,
but I was that day.
Your head rested on my shoulder;
my hand curled in the small of your back.

I put that memory
back into the dusty shoebox
it came from.

For a moment I consider
the happy murmur
that used to drown
the silence that now roars.

Enjoy! And a really big thanks! to everyone that has stopped by and commented over the last few days.