Cup Of Memories

The coffee pot beeps off and I know it's been hours since I've seen you. My cup is still full. Catching up after 10 years seemed impossible but we did it in a span of a Saturday morning. The sun brushed against the fall leaves. Sometimes, i wonder if we'll be torn completely apart. Then I stare at the steam from my cup. It rises to become one with the air . . . never truly gone. Escaping into something larger than itself. The brisk wind jostled the trees like you did my heart. I lean back and my chair creaks. Groaning under the weight of lost thoughts and evaporated days. Never gone. We get older and I still see your smile as we sat the bank of the ditch; your bright eyes crinkled into adolescent joy. The clock above my sink ticked. You had to leave early to pick up your daughter. I met her once but that was when she was still in diapers. I knew her before English was a concept to her and still, I said "I love you" when the time called for it. I shrugged at the changing weather outside my home. Here, I sit. Tapping at a table where we once laughed around. The remaining chairs are empty and it's just me and my coffee. I stare at my cup of memories. It's still full.