Let the grayish belt of asphalt
caressed by light and shade
now bear unknown footfalls.
I will tread a newer path,
where the breeze won't remind
your absence,
where energetic tree squirrels
briskly chewing on conifer cones
will glance cleverly at me
or maybe at my watch, scampering away.
On a side of the walk
there will be an old iron bench
for the lazy ones (like me).
I will dust off the olden times,
I will be enjoying a quiet while
of my space.
Mellowed daylight will then play a little
with migratory clouds,
altering the blueprints of umbrage all around.
