I carry it with me.
It’s dog-eared and tea stained, but always with me.
Though, it’s faded by sun as I cannot bear for it to be starved of light;
The muted colours still dance on the paper and kindle its silhouette into my eyes;
As you, in life.
When some days it stays hidden in the shadows, I know it’s there; scratching around with crumbs and an old button for company in the confines of my purse.
Those are the days I’m most sad.
When remiss, I lose the chance to say ‘Hello’, and find only my regret at 'Goodbye'.
That’s when I lose it again.
And find paper kisses no longer revive its breath;
It’s still with me, until I can bear to share it with others, in a frame on the hearth;
As we did, in life:
For the ones we loved.
(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011