out of reach

He wanders in and out of my thoughts at this time of year. Like a shadow, a memory – there, but somewhat out of reach. There was a time when he was here. A constant comfort that covered me like a blanket of love and security. It feels so cold now. If I go to the place where I last saw him, it is quiet, and empty. Sometimes, when I dream of him I feel the warmth from before. Its almost as if I can hear him speak. He clears his throat, I am waiting, but no sound comes. It has been 13 years since he passed away and I still love him like it was yesterday.

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About art4life

I have a visual art practice and (way too) many ideas, thoughts and opinions I want to share. Thanks for listening.
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